I Wish It Was Yesterday
by PineappleApproves
Summary: It was a simple case that escalated into something much worse. Eventually, everyone involved find themselves facing a danger that can't be extinguished in the courtroom. Several bodies show up that point to one deranged killer. The Wright Anything Agency ends up befriending a charming detective and a kind-hearted young woman. But they've brought a shadow with them. [On Hiatus]
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes: This is me venturing into a new frontier. I am terrified.**_

 _ **I have never written an AA fic before. I'm an avid fan, but I've only played a few games, and can hardly remember any of them. Please don't eat me.**_

 _ **This story takes place some time between the fourth and fifth games in the main series. Also, I'm conforming with the English version of the games, so this all takes place in LA, CA.**_

 _ **Also, WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS SWEARING AND VIOLENCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. IF THIS MAKES YOU WRINKLE YOUR NOSE, THEN GO AWAY AND FIND YOUR HAPPY PLACE. Thank you.**_

 _ **That being said, enjoy the story. Thanks for reading!**_

* * *

Today was a particularly brutal day. It was as though the Sun had made it its personal mission to scorch away the face of the Earth. Worst of all, the AC was broken, so the inhabitants inside the Wright Anything Agency were trapped inside an oven.

Athena was leaning back on her chair, fanning herself with an empty folder. Apollo was sprawled miserably on the couch, vest unbuttoned. Only Trucy seemed to be unaffected by the sweltering heat. Aside from taking off her cape, she acted perfectly normal.

The brunette concentrated fiercely as she tried to balance a pencil on its eraser end on the table. "I just saw a movie that had something like this," she said. "Hey, Apollo! Wanna see a magic trick?" Finally, the pencil balanced.

Athena suddenly scooted backwards in her chair, away from the pencil. "Whoa, no!" she cried. "I saw that movie, too! I don't like how it ends."

"What are you talking about?" Trucy replied, smiling deviously. "I'm just gonna make this pencil…" She waved a hand over it, and suddenly it vanished. "… Disappear." Athena shot Trucy an unamused look. "Okay… that wasn't so bad."

"Of course not!" Trucy replied, scratching at her ear. Suddenly, the pencil reappeared, tucked behind her air. Athena couldn't help but chuckle a little.

Trucy put her hands on her hips. "Looks like Mr. Comatose over there wasn't paying attention!" she pouted.

Apollo ignored her. "I'm melting…" he mumbled. Athena resumed fanning herself. "Yeah, and where are the repair guys, anyway?" she demanded. "They know how the weather gets here."

"They're probably sitting in their nice, cool repair van, laughing at our misfortune," Apollo grumbled back. Suddenly, the telephone rang. "Can someone who's not me get that?"

Trucy hoisted herself onto the table, sitting cross-legged on the surface. "Dad!" she shouted. "Can you get that?"

From the other room came another voice. "Apollo, you pick it up!" it boomed. "It's for you!"

With a disgruntled sigh, Athena rose and walked over to the telephone. "Oh, for the love of God! We can't keep the client waiting!" She plucked the phone from its hook. "Hello, Wright Anything Agency!" She paused. The buzzing of the other voice could barely be heard through the earpiece. "Yes… Yes, he's here. Hold on a minute, please."

She pulled the phone away. "Apollo! They're looking for you!" Apollo picked his head up from the couch and gave her a look of disbelief. Athena scowled at him.

'Hurry up!' she mouthed fiercely. Finally, he dragged himself over to the phone and took it. "This is Apollo Justice," he said, tugging at his collar and trying to sound _not_ miserable. "Oh… uh, that's unfortunate. No, no, I didn't mean… Yes? Well… Of course, that would be fine. Uh, what time tomorrow morning? Okay… okay, that sounds good! Yes… all right, good bye." He placed the receiver back on the hook.

Immediately, Trucy jumped up. "Another case, right?" she cried excitedly. "Let's hop to it!"

"Whoa, slow down there," Apollo replied. "We're meeting them tomorrow morning."

"So? Let's go to the crime scene! Honestly, it's like you've forgotten everything!"

"I haven't even accepted the case yet."

"What?"

Suddenly, Phoenix poked his head in from the other room. "I hope you _do_ take it," he said. "The defendant is very… interesting. I can't wait until you meet them."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing," Apollo said. "Why didn't you take it, if you've already met the defendant?"

"I'm busy." With that, he disappeared. Apollo sighed. " _Busy_? Sure. I was also _busy._ Busy melting into a sad little puddle."

"Hey, cheer up!" Trucy chirped. "At least the detention center has air conditioning!"

* * *

"If you'll just wait here, the defendant will be out in a minute," the security guard told the two as they sat on their side of the glass panel. Apollo and Trucy looked at each other curiously.

"Usually the defendant is here before us," Trucy said, tapping on her chin. "Oh well. Circumstances change. Hey!" She pulled out her phone. "Guess what? There's this really cool video I saw this morning that—."

"Oh shit," a voice drawled. Trucy nearly dropped her phone. Both turned to face the glass and saw that the defendant had arrived. And Phoenix hadn't been kidding.

She wore an olive tanktop. Around her neck was a silver chain that held a single dog tag, of which he couldn't read the etchings. Her right forearm was covered in tattoos, the biggest of which was the globe, anchor, and eagle—the US Marines emblem. Her hair was cut short into a buzz cut, and her ears held a number of piercings.

"I didn't know you were a _kid_ ," the woman said roughly, leaning back on the chair with one arm. "Well they might as well send me to prison right now."

Trucy flashed Apollo a nervous glance. Apollo cleared his throat. "Um… Teresa Everett, right?"

"Terry," she snapped.

"Oh, okay. So, Terry…"

"Listen, I know it's early and the daycare isn't open yet," Terry interrupted, leaning forward onto the table with both arms, "but don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Terry, I'm trying to help you," Apollo said firmly. "But I can only do so much without your cooperation."

The woman stared at him with a steely gaze for a few seconds. Finally, with a loud exhale, she leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. "Fine," she said. "So does that mean you're taking on my case?"

"I will."

"No hesitation," Terry remarked. "You've got some trace of a backbone, kid. You'd take care not to break it, though."

"I know what I'm doing," Apollo reassured. He sat there in silence for a few seconds, tapping into his thoughts. "So… um… I'm going to need to ask you a few questions."

"Let me start with the obvious: no, I didn't do it. I wouldn't be that stupid," Terry said.

Apollo nodded. "Of course. I believe you, and I'm going to try my best to make everyone else believe that too. Now, did you know the victim?"

Terry's answers to each of his questions were pretty straightforward, but the story they told was concerning. According to Terry, she wasn't even near the scene of the crime when it happened. She claimed she was at home, but unfortunately had no one to back up that alibi. But what bothered Apollo was why anyone would accuse her of being the murderer in the first place if she wasn't there. If that were the case, then why would the witness (there was going to be one; let's not kid ourselves) accuse her?

Eventually, Apollo ran out of questions to ask. There wasn't much information Terry could provide, granted that her story was true. Silence fell on both sides of the glass. Terry, her arm still crossed, stared deeply with her eyes lowered.

Finally, she broke the silence. "You… can prove my innocence, right?" Her voice had grown uncharacteristically soft.

Startled, Apollo looked at her. Her gaze was still down. He glanced at Trucy.

"We'll try our hardest," Trucy replied gently. "We won't rest until we get that verdict."

Terry sighed, bringing her hand up and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "She's going to freak out," she groaned. "Jesus Christ."

"Uh… Who?" Apollo asked.

Terry looked up. The first signs of fatigue had finally settled over her hardened features. "My sister. She's in New York right now. I haven't called her yet because of… reasons, but she's sure as shit going to find out somehow. Oh my god, she's going to freak the fuck out. Hey, can you do something for me?"

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"When she finds out, she's going to try to call me. My phone got taken when they hauled me in here. It'll help if there's someone there to pick up and reassure her that I'm fine. And can you tell her to… to stay in New York? She doesn't need to worry about me."

Apollo paused. "I'll see what I can do. Where is it now?"

"My phone? One of the uniforms took it, last I remember."

"Thanks," Apollo said, standing up. "See you later, Terry."

"Oh, hey!" Terry called out. Apollo stopped. "It's… uh, it's probably crawling with uniforms at this point, but could you stop by my place? I need someone to look after Mordy for me."

"Mordy?"

"My dog," Terry said. "If you could do that, that'd be great."

"No problem."

* * *

Terry's apartment was halfway across the city. By the time they arrived, the cab fare was ridiculous. Trucy put on an innocent smile as she hopped out of the cab, saying that she had forgotten her money back at the Agency. Apollo grudgingly paid the fare and followed her.

Terry was right. There were a few cruisers parked outside the apartment building. As Apollo scanned the area, he also spotted a motorcycle. "Oh great," he mumbled. Trucy looked back at him. "What's wrong?"

"Guess who's also here?" He rolled his eyes. "Couldn't resist the party, I suppose."

"Silly little you. Don't you know the party doesn't start without me?" a familiar voice retaliated. Apollo closed his eyes and sighed heavily while Trucy smiled politely.

"It seems like fate has placed us in another case together," Klavier continued. "You're here to sniff around for evidence, I presume? Look all you want. Go over to the crime scene and scour there, even! This is one case you won't be winning."

"You sound so sure of yourself," Apollo said. "Don't tell me you have some sort of special witness under your belt?"

Klavier Gavin chuckled. "You know it," he said. "The best witness. This one doesn't lie, doesn't falter, and has no contradictions. Sorry, but you lost the moment you took this case."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You'll find out."

Suddenly, Trucy spotted something in Klavier's hand. "Hey, that…!" she said. "Apollo, isn't that…?"

Apollo followed her gaze and saw the smartphone with a black and white case. "Terry's phone!" he said. "What are you doing with it?"

"The police chief handed it to me," Klavier explained. "How did you know what this was?"

"The defendant asked me to take it for her," Apollo said. "So… could you hand it over?"

"Hmm… that sounds rather odd," Klavier noted. "Still, I can't just—." Suddenly the smartphone lit up and began vibrating, buzzing loudly in his hand. All three glanced down at the screen as an 'Incoming Call' notification popped up, followed by a name and a contact picture.

The picture was of a young woman, sitting on a carpeted floor. She had long, black, wavy hair and, though Apollo would only quietly admit this to himself, was quite lovely. Lying across her lap was a large German Shepherd dog. The girl was laughing and flinching as the dog licked at her chin. At the top of the screen, the caller's name was listed as 'Dinky Doo.'

 _Definitely a sister_ , Apollo thought. He raised his gaze and noticed a sudden change in Klavier's demeanor. He was staring down at the phone with a shocked expression. There seemed to be something else in his eyes. It was as though he had just seen a ghost, but Apollo couldn't quite tell.

"That's her!" Trucy cried. She quickly snatched the phone out of Klavier's hand and shoved it at Apollo. "Hurry up! Remember what Terry said?" Klavier didn't seem to react.

Apollo straightened up. "Oh, right!" he said. He turned and began walking away as he answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. "This is Apollo Justice."

* * *

 ** _Addendum: The Dark Knight references. Hockey pants._**

 ** _Also, I feel your pain. It's 85F, but the humidity is off the charts. If you want to find me, look down, and try not to get your socks wet._**


	2. Chapter 2

As Apollo talked on the phone with the sister, he absent-mindedly began to walk away from the other two. His voice became quieter and quieter, until his words were no longer discernible.

With a bored sigh, Trucy looked around for something interesting to watch. She eventually looked up to Klavier, who was still staring after Apollo with an upset face. He was still the same from when the phone rang. Crossing her arms, she said, "What's the matter? It's almost like you haven't seen a pretty girl before."

Klavier seemed to have been shaken out of his thoughts. He looked down at Trucy, quickly swapping out his expression for a light-hearted smile. He shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to stop and admire them, Fraulein." He paused for a moment. "But…" he continued. "Why did she call?"

"Why? That's the—," Trucy began, when suddenly Apollo cut her off.

"Hey, can you come over here for a sec?" he called from where he was. Then he continued talking on the phone. Trucy huffed quietly. "Walks a million miles away and then calls me to come to him. Sure, _okay_." She hurried after him. Even as she did, she couldn't help but think to herself, ' _That didn't quite look like admiration_.'

* * *

He watched Trucy run off before she could answer his question. But he had still been startled to see that picture pop up on the phone like that. That girl…

Klavier decided to drop it. The past was in the past, and it was best to let the sleeping dogs lie.

He turned away and headed back to his motorcycle. He was done here, anyway. It was time to head back to prepare for the case. But as he approached his bike, he saw that there was a German Shepherd next to it, sniffing the motorcycle curiously. As it heard Klavier's footsteps, it turned its head and looked at him.

It seemed uncharacteristically calm for a dog. As Klavier stopped next to it, it did not move. Its mouth open and its tongue spilled out, but its tail remained still. It regarded him with its stoic eyes, and then sat down.

"Hey there," Klavier murmured. "You're well-trained, aren't you? Are you a K9? No, you've got a collar right here." He reached down and took the dog's tag. There, etched onto the metallic surface, was the dog's name: Mordecai.

"Mordecai, huh? Who's your…?" He suddenly remembered the dog in her picture. He straightened up and took his helmet. "She told me she had a dog," he mumbled to himself. He patted the dog's head. "See you around, Mordecai." The German Shepherd settled onto the asphalt and rested its head between its paws as it watched Klavier peel away on the motorcycle.

Funnily enough, the most common question he had during interviews was not about where he was educated, or what his views were on the latest piece of legislation, or what he did during his spare time. It was: _why don't you have a girl to call your own yet?_

It was a question that was to be expected, given his audience. And every time it was asked, he would give the same answer.

"I just haven't met the right one." The response would be followed by a smile.

But oh, how that was a lie. He never told anyone about it, but he did find love. But it was someplace where he never expected to find it: in a one-night stand.

It had been a few years, but he could still remember it clear as day. _It was late, almost midnight. They had just finished another energetic concert. He decided to stop by the nearest bar to cool off. She was one of the first things he noticed. Stunning, but sitting at a corner seat alone. She didn't notice him, because she was staring down at the drink between her hands. He made his way to her. She still didn't move. He sat down next to her. She finally seemed to notice him. Looking up, she offered a timid smile before glancing back down at her glass._

 _"A pretty little fraulein like you shouldn't be drinking alone."_

The blaring of a horn ripped him from his thoughts. Klavier looked up with shock and noticed the green light. The car behind him was honked again. He quickly shook his head and rode forward, silently cursing himself for losing himself like that.

He wasn't exactly sure if it was at the bar, or at his apartment later, that he realized that he was in love. Maybe it was both, when she laughed at his petty jokes and tried to reciprocate with her own, and then when they were wrapped together in a tight embrace. But it didn't matter now. He knew that the morning after when she was gone and there was no note, no explanation. And it was then he realized that he had never asked for her number.

* * *

"Daina, are you serious?" the woman asked, eyes wide. "You can't ditch! Not now!"

Daina Everett cleared her throat uncomfortably. She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. Side-by-side, the two women were walking back to their apartment complex. "I'm really, _really_ , sorry, Katie," she said. "It's just that something urgent really came up." Her colleague stared at her, the strands of her blonde hair escaping her bun.

"What do you mean?" Katie replied. "Day, you're the goddamn _lead_ in this performance. You know the other dancers are gonna feel a little lost without you!" Daina put her hands up.

"It's fine! Dylan's taking over my spot."

" _Dylan_?" Katie screeched. "Nuh-uh! No way! That girl dances like a goose! And you know Kraye is coming to see this show, right? Roger _Kraye_ , as in one of the recruiters for the Rockettes! This is going to be a foot in the door for a lot of dancers, especially for the lead! Isn't that what you've wanted?"

Daina felt a pang of longing in her chest. That really did sound like a great opportunity. She had auditioned twice for the Rockettes, and twice had been turned down. But… there were more important things than that.

"Katie, my sister's been convicted of murder," Daina said quietly, looking away. "I have to go."

"Your sister? As in the Marine? … Shit." There was a brief pause. There were only the sounds of traffic next to them, and the clicking of their heels on the pavement. "I guess that's pretty serious." She sighed, and then wrapped an arm around Daina as they walked. "All right, girl. You do what you gotta do. Just… choose someone else other than Dylan, okay?"

Daina let out a light-hearted laugh. "I'll try."

Once they reached their apartment, Daina immediately rushed to her room and closed the door behind her. She pulled up the contacts in her phone, hovering a finger above 'Terrible Terry.'

She wanted more than anything to hear her sister's voice and find out what was going on. But if Terry was already suspected for murder, then she was most likely stuck in a cell. Her phone wouldn't be on her person. Still, Daina needed to call. Even if it was a police officer that answered, she was going to get her answers.

Her finger tapped the touchscreen. The call was initiated. Quickly, Daina pulled the phone up to her ear. As she listened to it ring, a flurry of questions flooded into her mind. _Why was my sister suspected? Where are you holding her? Who was killed? Why, oh why, would you EVER accuse Terry of all people? Are you insane?_ She stopped and took a deep breath. Going berserk over the phone wasn't going to do anyone any favors.

The phone was still ringing. It would go into voicemail soon. Was anyone there?

Suddenly, the ringing stopped. A voice spoke from the other end. "This is Apollo Justice."

Daina froze, unsure of what to say. Hearing this voice made her suddenly forget everything she was going to say.

"Um… Is this an officer?" she asked.

"Me? No, I'm a defense attorney. Is this Dink- uh, is this Terry's sister?"

"Yes," Daina responded, completely unaware that she was pacing in a mad circle around the room. "So, are you Terry's lawyer?"

"I am. I took on her case this morning. I didn't catch your name, I'm afraid."

"Daina."

"Oh, okay. All right, so you're probably calling because you know about her current condition, right?"

Daina wrapped her free arm over her stomach nervously. "Of course I know about it. Tell Terry I'm going to be flying over in two days. I-I don't know if that's too late for the trial."

"That should be the day of," Apollo said. "But the thing is, Terry wants you to stay in New York. She says she's fine. And you can be assured that I'll do my best to prove her innocence, okay?" Then, in a much quieter voice as though he were talking to someone else, Daina heard him shout, "Hey, can you come over here for a sec?"

"No, I need to come over. You don't know, or you probably will once you start talking to her, but Terry's had a lot of stressful stuff happen to her recently. I just… I just need to be there for her. Look, I get that you and Terry probably don't want too much hassle, so I promise I won't get in the way."

"Wait, but—."

"Day, the Director's on the phone!" Katie called from the other room. "She wants you to choose your replacement. She needs your final decision tonight!"

Daina looked over her shoulder at her closed door. "Look, I have to go. Take care of Terry, please." She hung up and tucked the phone into her pocket and hurried out of her room.

Taking Katie's phone, she pinned it against her ear as she opened the fridge door and checked its contents. "Hello? Yeah, sorry about that. It was busy because I was on the phone with someone…. No, I change my mind. Have Jess take my spot instead. Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Okay, mhmm. Thanks. Sorry about the late notice… Okay. You too." Just as she got off the phone with the Director, she felt her pocket vibrate with a text.

' _Is it that attorney again?'_ she thought as she grabbed a tupperware container and closed the fridge door with her foot. ' _No matter what he says, he's still not going to deter me from…'_ As she pulled her phone out and looked at it, she realized it was an unknown number.

"I look forward to seeing you again."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Little does Klavier know, he was petting the mastermind of the murderer, the epitome of all evil... Just kidding. Mordecai is best.**_

 _ **Also, lesson learned! Don't be a dummy; get them digits!**_


	3. Chapter 3

It was the morning after Apollo had taken Terry's case. The sun was just beginning to climb out from the horizon. Apollo was nothing but a mound under a blanket, with a head poking out from one end.

Suddenly, the doorknob twitched. Then there was a pause. It jiggled again, like someone was struggling to turn it. After a few more seconds, the door clicked and swung open an inch. A pair of brown eyes three feet off the ground peeked in the crack.

A dog's muzzle poked through the gap and pushed the door wide open. The large German Shepherd trotted into the dark room and glanced at the bed. He sat down and stared at the still mound. After a few moments, the dog began to grow impatient.

In a single leap, Mordecai jumped onto the bed. The impact seemed to stir Apollo into a half-awake state, because he writhed a little under his covers but otherwise did not move. Mordecai stepped delicately over Apollo's limbs until his head was hovering right above the pillow. The dog began sniffing at Apollo's face, eventually pressing his nose against the boy's cheek.

Apollo flinched violently, which caused Mordecai to jump back. Sitting up, Apollo let out a drawn out, "Huzzzzkuh?" while wiping at his cheek. He glanced sleepily at Mordecai. "Is… is cold," he stuttered drowsily. "How did… you even get in here?" It was then he noticed the open door and let his hand drop onto the covers with a muffled _thump_.

"You can open doors?" Apollo said accusingly. With a heavy sigh, he threw the covers aside. "Well at least you don't bark." There was no use trying to go back to sleep with this crazy dog staring at him. It was time to start the investigations, anyway.

* * *

 _Day One—Investigation_

"So what's first on our agenda?" Trucy asked. She was kneeling in front of Mordecai, rubbing behind his ears. The dog's tail dragged happily against the ground. "Should we go back to the detention center and talk to Terry a little bit more, or should we see what evidence we can gather from our hotspots?"

"Getting a bit more information from Terry is important, but it's the evidence that makes or breaks the case, remember?" Apollo answered. It was close to 8 in the morning, and for the time being they were lounging at the Wright Anything Agency while they thought up a battle plan. The air conditioning, thankfully, was functioning today.

"That's true," Trucy replied thoughtfully. "So what do you think?"

"Well, I was thinking about stopping by the crime scene. We might be able to pick up on some evidence and get a better picture of the entire thing," Apollo answered. Trucy jumped up.

"All right!" she cried. "It's about time we started _doing_ things!" Mordecai barked in response.

Apollo glanced down at the German Shepherd. "That's the first time I've heard him make a noise. I mean, besides all that panting."

"It's because he's a good doggy!" Trucy said, giving Mordecai's head another pat. Apollo stared thoughtfully at him for a second. "We should also stop by Terry's place again. Maybe we can find something there that proves that she was there on the night of the murder."

"And since you're making a list of places to visit," a voice added, "can you do some location hunting for me?" Phoenix appeared, holding out a folded post-it note. "If you have the time, can you seek out this address for me?"

"Uhh…" Apollo said hesitantly, taking the note. "I mean, I guess? Is this relevant to the case?"

"Might be," Phoenix answered with a shrug.

As Apollo unfolded the note to read the address, Trucy peered over his arm. "What is it, Pops?" she asked.

"It's a strange address," Phoenix said. "It popped up in my research. Nothing comes up when I put it into any GPS. So like I said, ask around or look for it yourself, will you?"

Apollo quickly folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. "Sure. Come on, Trucy. If it gets too late, the crime scene will be scoured clean."

"Oh, right!" Trucy said. She quickly grabbed her hat from a nearby armchair and popped it onto her head. "We gotta go now. Bye, Dad!" She and Apollo quickly headed for the door.

* * *

The trip to the crime scene was a rather short one. The murder took place in a greenbelt that was right next to Pike's Peak, a park that surrounded a deep pond. Unlike the other parks, Pike's Peak was named so because of its unsteady, climbing landscape. It was a perfect place for hikers and people looking for a challenging exercise.

Apollo huffed and grimaced down at his shoes. "I shouldn't have worn these," he sighed. Meanwhile, Trucy maintained a steady pace by his side. Her eyes were towards the pond, which was below them. "You think there are actually pike down there?" she wondered out loud.

"I doubt it," Apollo said. "They get pretty big, and I don't think a pond like that can hold a stable population."

"Aww, bummer!" Trucy said as she frog-leaped over a small boulder. "I'd like to pull a thrashing pike outta there!"

"More like it'd pull _you_ in," Apollo responded.

After a while, they reached the edge of the park where the greenbelt started. As expected, Apollo could see the yellow police tape from where he was, and the distant shuffling of policemen. As the two approached, a nearby officer noticed them.

"Pardon me, sir and ma'am, but this place is currently sealed off," he said, walking to block their path. Apollo didn't answer, but tapped the attorney's badge on his collar. Trucy scooted closer to him.

The officer seemed to hesitate. "Still… That doesn't mean—," he began.

"Ah, Monsieur Justice!" a male voice called out. "You're a little earlier than expected, but that's all right." All three, Apollo, Trucy, and the officer, turned to the source of the voice. A young man, seemingly in his mid-twenties, was walking over. He wore a black leather jacket over a grey henley-styled shirt. Below that, he had simple blue jeans on. His medium-length bronze hair was swept over to one side of his head.

When he reached Apollo, he offered out a hand. "Ethan Tache," he said. He spoke in perfect English, but had a slight French accent. "Nice to meet you, Monsieur… and Mademoiselle," he added, giving Trucy a nod. Apollo took his hand.

"Apollo Justice," he said. "And this is my partner, Trucy Wright."

"Bon." Ethan withdrew his hand and looked to the officer. "No need to worry. These two are with me. Carry on, please." The officer nodded. "Of course, Detective Tache."

Ethan motioned for the two to follow him. He seemed to conduct himself with an air of professionalism, yet it wasn't in an arrogant way. Who knew that was possible?

"She told me you'd be coming here today. Unfortunately, she cannot greet you herself. I'll apologize on her behalf," Ethan Tache said as he led them towards the crime scene.

"She?" Apollo repeated.

"Detective Skye, of course. She's usually the giving you the information on your cases, no?" Ethan clarified. He pulled his ID tag up from his belt and waved it at a policeman who was guarding the edge of the taped-off scene. The officer lifted up the tape for them. "Well today the good detective received a call about another murder that happened just this morning. Given that her expertise is far superior to mine, she left to work on it and left this one to me." Ethan ducked under the tape and rose again on the other side.

"All right… Well, what have we got here then?" Apollo asked. He noticed a four-foot pole poking out from a nearby bush with a tag labeled "1" on it. Ethan noticed Apollo's gaze.

"Let me lay out the scenario for you," Ethan said. He walked a few feet away from the bush and stopped by a tag on the ground labeled "M."

"The killer was standing here. Facing this way." He turned so that his back was to the bush. "The victim was standing in front of the killer, maybe… hmmm… four or five feet away. A rather short distance, you see." He pointed at another tag, labeled "V1."

"The weapon was a handgun. Semi-automatic and… well, we don't need to get into too much detail about it. So, murderer here." He gestured at his feet. "Victim, standing there." Another gesture at V1. "Murderer raises the gun to the victim." He raised his hand, two fingers extended like a gun. "Bang." He gave a final wave towards another tag, "V2," sitting next to a patch of reddish-brown grass. "The victim fell here. The first shot didn't kill him. He tried to crawl away. That's when the second shot happened."

Ethan sudden whirled around, clapping his hands together. The swiftness of his movements caused both Trucy and Apollo to jump. "That's it. Any questions, Monsieur Justice?"

Apollo crossed his arms, diverting his eyes away from the reddish patch. "So who was 'he'? This victim?"

"Jacob Rhune. His life, I know nothing about. I'm quite informed about his death, sadly." He pulled out a small envelope from the inside of his jacket and held it out. "The most recently updated autopsy report." Apollo took hold of the envelope and thanked him.

"Je vous en prie," Ethan answered promptly. Suddenly, there was a quiet buzz. The detective pulled out his phone, took a brief moment to glance at the new text, and slipped it back into his pocket. "Looks like Skye needs a little help with something. I get no rest, I tell you. Any other questions before I go?"

"No… yes!" Apollo said quickly. "Did they find the weapon?"

"We did, in fact. The murderer tossed it there right after the second shot." Ethan nodded towards shrubbery that grew around the base of a nearby tree. Also, we've confirmation that the bullets were fired from this gun."

"You seem to know a lot about how the murder played out," Trucy noted as Apollo opened the envelope and began skimming through the report. "I guess that's the power of forensics, huh?"

Ethan laughed. "Normally, yes, we have amazing technology and amazing minds to unravel the past with. However, that was not the case this time."

"What do you mean?" Trucy asked. The smile suddenly disappeared from Ethan's face.

"You're not going to like this," he admitted. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "But the murder itself… and your defendant… all of it, was caught on camera."

There was a soft _put_ as the cardstock envelope hit the grass. Apollo looked up at Ethan with shocked eyes. "It… _everything_ is on tape?"

"Indeed." Ethan pointed towards something that was behind them. They turned to see the pole in the bushes. "A few days prior to the murder, someone set up a deer cam here. The thing was still here when the victim was shot. Pretty unlucky for the Marine, eh?"

Apollo suddenly remembered Klavier's words. _The best witness. This one doesn't lie, doesn't falter, and has no contradictions._

Well, shit.

"And you've seen the footage already?" Apollo asked. Ethan's phone buzzed again.

"Of course I have, Monsieur Justice," the detective replied, giving another quick glance at the text. "I've really got to go now. I'm really sorry about having to end this meeting on a low note." He paused. "Tell you what. If you stop by Criminal Affairs, I can let you see the tape. I… don't really know how that'll help you, but if you really want to see it, then I'll be happy to oblige. When you get there, just ask for the best-looking detective and the front office should understand." He offered a playful grin. "Good luck, Monsieur. Mademoiselle." He lightly touched the side of his finger against his forehead like a salute and quickly turned and marched away.

As he walked away, Ethan's phone began to ring. "Oui, Sophie?" Apollo could hear him say. "Quoi de neuf?"

Apollo sighed as he stooped down to pick up the envelope. "Well that's just great," he grumbled. "And what did he say? 'Ask for the best-looking detective'?"

Trucy giggled. "Well, you know, it's probably true!"

Apollo stared at her. "… Really?"


	4. Chapter 4

Trucy peered out of the window of the taxi. "Where are we going?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure Terry's apartment was the exit back there."

"Change of plans," Apollo replied. He posture was incredibly tense, arms crossed over his chest and leg bouncing. "You remember what Tache said? The murder was caught on camera, and Terry is in it. She apparently didn't tell us everything."

"Seems a little too convenient," Trucy pointed out. "The greenbelt is a big place. There happened to be a deer cam at that exact spot pointed right at the murderer?"

"I think it's a little odd too," Apollo agreed. "But it's what we've got now. No wonder Klavier seemed so pleased with himself." Trucy shrugged. "It's all right, Polly," she reassured. "We got this." Suddenly the cab stopped. The detention center could be seen outside the window. Apollo heard the sound of a car door opening and turned to look. The seat beside him was empty. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and fished out his wallet.

A police officer raised his arm in a half-assed wave as Apollo and Trucy walked in. "Here for the Marine, Mr. Justice?"

"Yup," Apollo replied. The officer raised his radio to his mouth and murmured a few words into it. Then, he nodded towards the corridor that was peppered with doors. "Third one on the right," he said. "Go on ahead. She should be there in a moment."

Apollo nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem, Mr. Justice," the officer said boredly before turning back to his computer.

As the two made their way down the corridor, Trucy reached over and poked Apollo in the arm. "Hey, what about the address Dad gave us? Are we going there too?"

Apollo scratched the side of his neck nervously. "Maybe if we have the time. The trial's the day after tomorrow, after all."

"The trial… that's right," Trucy said as they stopped in front of their designated door. "Speaking of which, isn't Terry's sister coming over for the trial? We're going to have to tell Terry about that, too." Apollo gulped. ' _There's going to be a thick layer of safety glass between us, but I'm still not looking forward to it_ ,' he thought. Trucy placed her hand on the doorknob. "Shall we?"

With a sigh, Apollo motioned for her to go ahead. "Yeah, let's talk."

They walked through the door. Terry was already there behind the glass, her arms crossed and her eyes trained on them. "You rang?" she said as they sat down across from her.

Apollo hesitated, trying to search for how to word his questions. Trucy suddenly spoke up.

"Terry, have you been telling us the complete truth?" The marine's face tensed. She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward on the desk.

"You don't think so?" she asked, her voice steely. Trucy shifted in her seat. "Well—."

"What is this?" Terry interrupted, alternating her gaze between the two. "Are you trying to get a confession out of me? What the fuck, I thought you were trying to help me!"

Trucy jumped. "No, it's not like that! We… something's come up."

"Something?" Terry repeated. "What something?"

"A video," Apollo stated. "A video of the murder. Apparently, you're in it." Terry glared at him, but seemed lost for words. She shook her head and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair.

"What is going on?" she whispered, seemingly to herself. Then, louder, she asked, "and have you seen this video?"

"Not yet," Apollo admitted. "But I plan on doing so this afternoon if there's time."

"Has anyone else seen it?" Terry asked, opening her eyes.

Apollo paused to think. "I think Prosecutor Gavin has. And so has Detective Tache. Other than that, I don't know."

"Tache…?" Terry said quietly. "I've heard of that name before." Her eyes grew distant. After a few seconds, she shook herself back to reality. She crossed her arms over her chest again. "If you have questions, you'll ask them," she said, resuming her stern voice.

' _Okay, well I have three points we need to cover_ ,' Apollo assessed. ' _The video, Daina, and Terry herself. It might help if I learn about my client. Hmm… I better start with the easiest question first._ '

"So you're a marine?" Apollo began. "For how long?"

"Joined when I was 21," Terry answered. "So if you do the math, I've been serving for 11 years. A long fuckin' time."

"I see. So… er, what's it… you know… like?"

Terry's expression didn't change. She had obviously been asked this question many times. "It's something that, no matter how many times you explain, no matter how many videos you see, people don't truly get. It's like trying to describe an object to a blind person. You can talk and talk, but will they be able to understand it like you do? Hell no. You have to live it to know what it's like. I can tell you this, though: "normal" life isn't the same anymore. People treat you _weird_. Once they catch scent that you're in the military, out pops the 'thank you for your service.' Nah." Terry scoffed. "Don't thank me. You don't know what I do.

"As for what it's like abroad, well… Yeah, I've been through my fair share of firefights. It's… I'm not going to go much into detail. It's an 'us vs. them' mentality that keeps us going, you know? I don't have any regrets. You find it easy to shoot back at the ones who are trying to kill your friends."

"Oh," Apollo said softly. "That must've been something."

"Yeah. No shit," Terry retorted. "Next question." It was clear she didn't want them to dwell on the subject. Seeing how it was making Terry quite cranky, Apollo was more than happy to oblige.

"That's fine with me. I really need to ask you about the video," he said.

Terry tilted her head, resting a fist against her temple. "Why? I know less about it than you do."

"Well I just don't know how it's possible, if what you said about being at home is true."

Terry's face darkened. "It is," she insisted. "Listen, I'm not sure how it's possible either. Maybe you should see the video first before you start sputtering nonsense about it."

' _Well, there goes that_ ,' Apollo thought with a mental sigh. ' _Well, one last question_.'

"So… I spoke to your sister yesterday…" he began cautiously. All of a sudden, something shocking happened. Terry… smiled!

But it wasn't a kind smile. It was almost a smirk. "She didn't listen, did she?"

"Uh… yeah."

"I know what you're thinking," Terry said. "And don't worry. I knew this was going to happen. You had a tenth of a percent chance of convincing her to stay put. Daina's stubborn as hell. Still, I appreciate the effort." She shrugged. "Is that all you got, Lawyer? It better be."

"What do you mean?"

"You're heading down to the CA to check the tape, right? If I had to guess, visitors won't be allowed after 5." She tapped the back of her wrist as if there was a watch. "It's 1630. 4:30. You better haul ass."

Apollo's eyes flickered over to the analog clock on the wall. "Ack! You're right! Thanks, Terry!" He quickly stood up and was about to head for the door when suddenly Trucy grabbed his arm.

"Hold on for a sec!" she said, reaching over and pulling a small slip of paper from Apollo's pocket. "Can we ask you one last little thing?" She unfolded the paper. "Have you heard of this address? 44308 23rd Street, and uh…" she held the paper closer as she spotted a small name written at the bottom of the paper. " _The Confluence_."

"Can't say that I have," Terry replied, adjusting her dog tag. "If it's on 23rd Street, then… Shit, it's been a while since I've been back… then it sounds like an apartment complex. Odd name for one, though."

"All right. See you, Terry. Trucy, come on! Let's go!" Apollo urged. "If we miss Tache, the dog's staying at _your_ place tonight!"

* * *

"Detective Tache?" the receptionist said. "Okay, hold on a minute." The woman picked up a black telephone off its hook and punched in a few numbers. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder as she resumed typing on her computer. After a few seconds, she spoke. "Detective, you have two visitors. Yes… Okay, good bye." She hung up and quickly glanced up at them.

"He's coming down to get you two. The elevators don't work without keycards," she explained briskly as she continued typing. "You're welcome to wait in the lobby."

By "lobby," the receptionist meant the few measly chairs flanked by potted plants by the entrance. To top it off, they were the same shade of blue as that creepy badger.

Apollo sat down in one of the seats and watched as people were leaving the building. Of course. It was 15 minutes until the end of normal shifts. He was a little embarrassed about reaching out to Tache at such a time.

"Hey, I've been thinking," Trucy started. Apollo glanced at her. "You know how that video shows the murder? I think it's better if you watch it. I don't think I want to see it."

"That's probably for the best," Apollo replied. Motion caught his eye and he turned to see Ethan Tache walking towards them. "Good afternoon!" he said, motioning them over. "You couldn't have picked a better time to come!"

Apollo flinched. "Right, sorry about that," he said meekly. "We lost track of time back at the detention center."

"I'm sure the marine is very interesting to talk to," Ethan replied. They stepped into the elevator. Ethan swiped his ID card over the scanner and pressed '4.' The elevator beeped monotonously as it climbed the floors. "Personally, I've never spoken to her. She's only recently returned from deployment." The elevator dinged loudly as the doors slid open. Apollo was about to step off when he noticed that someone was standing in the way.

"Herr Forehead?" Klavier perplexed. "What are you—?" He spotted Ethan, and immediately his face turned somber. "Tache," he greeted in a low voice, his demeanor suddenly cold.

In contrast, Ethan spread his arms wide in a friendly manner, a huge grin on his face. "Ah, there you are! How _are_ you, mon chéri? Do you have something for me?" Klavier stepped aside as the three exited the elevator.

"Here," Klavier mumbled dully, holding out a folder. "I was going to leave it on your desk."

"But the door was locked, wasn't it," Ethan said, nabbing the folder. "My office is my fort, you know. No whiny babies allowed." Klavier glowered at him as he entered the elevator. "Whatever," he muttered as the doors closed.

Apollo turned to Ethan. "He doesn't seem to like you very much," he noted. "I've never seen him so sour before." ' _Well, except for those times I whooped his butt in court._ '

Ethan laughed heartily. "I know. Isn't it fun?" he chuckled, opening the folder an inch to quickly inspect its contents. Apollo and Trucy exchanged odd looks.

"Er… why is that?" Trucy asked as Ethan closed the folder and continued to lead them down the hall.

"The little rock star and I have a rivalry between us. Well, _he_ thinks it's a rivalry. I think it's hilarious. I guess he can't stand being in second place in terms of looks and musical talent. He hates me, and I like to act endearing towards him; it really grinds his gears," Ethan explained as they passed numerous cubicles, conference rooms, and employee lounges.

"Oh, so you're in a band, too?" Trucy piped up. Ethan gave her a quizzical look.

"Now what gave you that impression, Mademoiselle? Do I look like some pompous weirdo to you? Non. For me, music is a form of relaxation. And besides…" He stopped at a closed door that held a card slider and a keypad. The detective swiped his ID and punched in a few digits. The door let out a loud click. "… Any silly old sot can strum those strings. It takes a real man to caress the ivory keys." Ethan swung open the door, and the first thing they could see was a vertical piano sitting against the opposite wall. Inside, the office was spacious. The upper edges of room, where the walls met the ceiling, were adorned with white LED Christmas lights. They were the only source of light in the dim room. On the right-hand wall, hanging over a plush pleather sofa, was a large French flag. Other sections of the wall held neat collages of photographs. Most of them, from what Apollo could see, showed Ethan at various ages with a younger girl who shared his same bronze hair. To the left was a large desk that held a dual-monitor computer set up, a large speaker with a phone dock, and a glass display that held various bullet shell casings.

Apollo glanced around. "This is a… uh…very interesting office."

"J'avoue?" Ethan laughed sheepishly. "Looks totally unprofessional, but it's comfy. Still, most detectives don't even get their own office. But my boss decided to agree to my request for one, especially since I actually do my work instead of browsing Reddit like most of my colleagues. But enough sightseeing; back to business!"

He walked over to the desk and tapped on the spacebar, waking the computer up. "You're here to see the video, yes?"

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Ethan and Klavier. Caaaan you feel the haaaate tonight?**_

 _ **Also, according to Ethan's description, I would fit in with his colleagues perfectly.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_Day Two—Investigation_

"I don't get it!" Apollo cried, looking down at the paper in his hands, then back at the building in front of him. "44308 23rd Street! It should be right here!" But the building was not an apartment complex called _The Confluence_. It was a tiny taco shop.

Trucy tapped on her chin, staring thoughtfully at the shop. "Well, it wasn't going to be _that_ easy. Otherwise Dad wouldn't have put us up to the task! He couldn't find it on the GPS, remember?"

"I remember," Apollo mumbled. "Question is, what exactly is this research he's doing? I've really got to get ready for the trial!" This wild goose chase was really starting to irk him, especially since he had to wake up early in the morning for a pretrial conference. "You know what? Maybe something will pop up if I Google it." Pulling out his phone, Apollo brought up the web browser and began typing away. He heard Trucy giggle.

"Hey Polly," she whispered.

"What?"

"That guy probably thinks we're total nutcases, standing here and staring at the outside of a taco shop."

Apollo looked up and around. He spotted a dark blue car parked a few spaces away from where they were standing. He could vaguely make out a person sitting in the driver's seat. Something, probably a phone, was glowing in his hand. The person's head was turned to them, however. Apollo quickly ducked his head down. "He probably does," he agreed quietly. He could already imagine what the person was writing as their Instagram caption: "Look at these two dumbasses standing like Neanderthals on 23rd Street."

The Google search was taking forever to load. The reception shouldn't have been so bad here! It wasn't like he was in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, he heard a familiar ringtone go off beside him.

"Hey, Dad texted," Trucy said. She paused. "Oh… okay?"

"What is it?"

"He says, 'Never mind about the address. Can you head back? Someone's at the Agency asking for you two.' Hmm. That's an odd change of heart."

"And I wonder who's at the Agency," Apollo added. "My guess would be Detective Tache, but he would've just called."

"It could be Daina!" Trucy suggested. Apollo furrowed his brow. "She's not supposed to be here until tomorrow," he countered.

"Early flight?" Trucy guessed. "Anyway, we're not going to find out by just standing here."

* * *

There was no car in front of the Wright Anything Agency. Not even Tache's silver truck. Maybe it _was_ Daina. Apollo sighed heavily as they headed towards the building.

"Hey, why the long face?" Trucy asked.

"I'm _really_ not looking forward to tomorrow," Apollo admitted. "I've never gone up against such incriminating evidence like this." He remembered the video from yesterday. No doubt the murderer in the video was Terry. But he thought back to the woman behind the glass in the visitor's room. Sure she had an attitude, but she didn't seen like the killer he had seen on the tape.

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Trucy reassured. "It may seem daunting now, but I'm sure you're gonna be able to pull the rabbit out of the hat in court tomorrow!"

"Aren't you usually the one who does that?"

Trucy shrugged. "Well, there's a first for everyone."

When they entered the Agency, they were surprised to see only Phoenix by himself sitting anxiously on the couch. He glanced up at the two as they walked in. "You're back," he said. There was relief in his voice.

"We headed back as soon as you messaged us," Apollo responded, looking around. "So who's here?"

"Well, to be honest," Phoenix admitted quietly. "There's no one. I was just making that up."

"What? Why?" Apollo asked.

"Yeah, why?" Trucy demanded, placing her fists on her hips. "We were on the brink of discovery, too!"

"I just needed to talk to you. You can forget about the address. I'm wasting your time, Apollo. Sorry about that," Phoenix said. "You need time to prepare for the trial, after all." Apollo could almost hear a nervous edge in his tone.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Apollo answered. "Is, uh, is everything okay here?"

"As far as I'm concerned," Phoenix said, leaning back in his seat. The nervous edge was quickly erased from his voice. "Athena's out talking to a potential client. How's your case going so far?"

Apollo couldn't help but let out an agitated groan. He made his way to a stray office chair and plopped down. "Awful," he answered. "I'm doomed."

"Why?" Phoenix looked from Trucy to Apollo. "What's up?"

"Didn't you hear, Dad?" Trucy said. "Apollo's client was caught on camera killing the victim!"

Phoenix raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?" He glanced back at Apollo. "Wow. Did you see it?"

"Yeah."

"What do you think?"

"I want to believe that she's innocent," Apollo said carefully. "But at the same time, I can't deny what I saw."

Phoenix Wright was silent as he tapped a single finger against his lips. Without looking at anyone, he said, "Answer me this: did you actually see her _face_ in the video?"

"Did I…? Uh… No, I actually didn't," Apollo recalled.

Phoenix closed his eyes and nodded. "Maybe you should keep that in mind for the trial tomorrow."

"That's a good point," Apollo said, though he had no clue how that would help him. Suddenly, his phone began to go off loudly. To his surprise, it was a cutesy little song, accompanied by meows and a little girl's singing voice. Apollo jumped up and pulled the phone out of his pocket just as Phoenix muttered, "That's a very interesting ringtone."

"Trucy! I told you not to mess with my settings!" Apollo cried, flustered.

Trucy giggled. "Sorry, Polly!"

Apollo quickly rushed away as he answered the phone. "Y-yes? Hello?" he said, still red.

"Hey there, Monsieur Justice. You sound out of breath." It was Ethan Tache.

"Oh, h-hi, Detective. Nah, I'm fine. So what's up?"

"Just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow. Don't put my hard work to waste!" Ethan replied.

"Yeah, thanks. No pressure or anything," Apollo said.

Phoenix watched was Apollo wandered into the other room, occupied with the call. Trucy yawned and headed towards the small office fridge. Soon, he was by himself. His fingers tapped nervously against his knees for a moment before he slipped his phone out and peered at it.

With his mouth pressed into a tight line, Phoenix unlocked it. He pulled up the message that he had gotten earlier that day from an unknown number.

"You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. I'm not accustomed to killing children, but that can change."

It was followed by a picture of Apollo and Trucy standing together on a sidewalk.

* * *

 _Day Three—Trial_

Apollo Justice took a deep breath as he sat on a wooden bench in the defendant lobby. His fingers tightened on the leather padfolio that he held in his hands, containing all of the trial's relevant documents. These, along with the evidence, were his lifelines. He had spent the last five minutes hurriedly studying them. It reminded him of his college years, with students sitting outside the testing centers looking for their last-minute salvations in the pages of textbooks and notes.

He glanced at the clock over the door. 9:58. Well, there was no use in delaying. Showtime.

Apollo walked in through the doors, entering the courtroom. Most of the jurors had already found their seats. Across from the defense's side was familiar figure: Prosecutor Gavin.

' _He's just standing there! Fuck! Is he_ that _confident?'_ Apollo thought to himself. As he took his position behind his own bench, he already began to feel a tad bit lonely. Since the video of the murder was going to be shown in court today, Trucy opted out of today's trial. ' _At least there's one friendly face here._ ' Apollo glanced up to where Tache was sitting. However, the detective was leaning back with his eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest. The thin white cords of his earbuds snaked from the sides of his head to his lap.

' _Well, there's that feeling of isolation again._ '

The harsh slam of the gavel caused Apollo to jump. The low buzz among the jury died down. Apollo glanced up at the judge, who had taken his position at his bench. He slammed his gavel a few more times to silence the last of the chatter. Up in his seat, Tache was still zoned out, his head slightly bobbing to his music. Someone quickly elbowed him, causing him to sit upright.

"Order! _Order!_ Court has commenced!" the judge bellowed. "We have gathered here today to pass judgment on the murder of Jacob Rhune. Are the defense and prosecution ready?"

"Yes, your honor," Apollo answered.

"Rockin' and ready to go," Klavier responded, flashing Apollo a smirk.

' _You haven't won just yet, Gavin. Don't look so smug_ ,' Apollo thought, feeling his heartbeat quicken nonetheless.

Satisfied with the replies, the judge gave a content nod. "Very good. Now, will the defendant take the stand and introduce herself to the court?" From her seat, Terry uncrossed her hands, a surprised look on her face. She quickly shot Apollo a glare. ' _You didn't tell me I'd have to talk on the stand!_ ' her furious eyes seemed to accuse. Nonetheless, she rose and walked up to the stand in the center of the room.

Chatter instantly erupted as people caught sight of her buzz cut, her tattoos, and her dog tags. Numerous camera clicks sounded from the back of the court. Apollo grimaced. ' _Of course this case would get attention. If there's anything the media loves, it's a scandal. Terry's going to be painted as a corrupt marine. I better clear her name before this all hits the fan._ '

Once Terry had taken the stand, the judge slammed his gavel to silence the commotion. "Can you tell the court your name?"

Terry's eyes flickered up to the waiting faces and then quickly diverted to the ground in front of her. "Terry Everett," she mumbled.

"Your real name, if you will," Klavier spoke up. Terry gave him a sour look. Behind him, Apollo could hear hushed whispering. ' _Would you please stop making my job harder?_ ' he thought desperately.

"Teresa Everett," Terry said in an icy voice. "Is that better, _Playboy_?" Klavier drew back. His shock was quickly replaced with amusement. A few people in the room chuckled. Others began murmuring to each other again. The sound of the gavel ripped through the air.

"Order!" the judge snapped. "Miss Everett, I advise you to refrain from slandering the prosecution. You are already making an interesting image of yourself as it is." Terry glanced back at the ground. "Yessir… Your Honor."

A slow clap rang through the courtroom. It was coming from the prosecutor's bench. All eyes flew to Klavier. "Now that we're done with the theatricals, I think we should start with the proceedings, nein? We shouldn't be wasting the good people's time." He rested his hands in his pockets. "Miss Everett, explain to the court how you know the victim."

"I don't," Terry answered firmly. "I only know his name; that was given to me when I was being arrested. I've never heard of him before all of this happened. So tell me, Gavin, why would I kill someone I don't know? What motive would be behind that?"

"Normally it is the lawyers doing the questioning. But let me entertain your question for the sake of everyone in this room. Miss Everett, you _do_ realize that lying to the court is illegal?" He left a dramatic pause, allowing his words to sink in. Terry stared at him wide-eyed.

"L-lying?" she stammered angrily. "How dare you say that I'm—!"

"Jacob Rhune is an ex-boyfriend of yours, is he not? How can you claim to not know him?" More chatter. More gavel pounding. Apollo was already feeling a headache coming on. He had not spoken a word since the beginning of the proceeding, and yet this entire situation was spiraling out of control.

" _My_ ex-boyfriend? He was never my ex-boyfriend! He's… he… Wait. Jacob? … Jake?" Her voice had grown soft. "No… He's not my ex, he's… he's my sister's."

' _Daina's?_ ' Apollo wondered. ' _Oh boy._ '

"Listen," Terry continued. "This guy, he met my sister in high school. They dated for a few years, until my sister's senior year of college. She found out he was cheating, and she broke it off. This was about four years ago. I never met him; while they were dating I was deployed."

"So he cheated on your sister? Left her heartbroken? Hmm… sounds like a common motive to me. Revenge," Klavier said.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Terry snapped. "I wouldn't ruin Daina's life like that!"

Klavier froze. "Daina?" he repeated. "Your sister?" He fell silent. Then, he quickly regained his composure. "Nevertheless, I have a witness to prove you wrong. A rather good one." On cue, the room darkened. The projector on the ceiling flickered to life, casting a large square of light on the wall. "This witness isn't a very traditional one. Many of you carry a form of it in your pockets."

Apollo watched with dread as the video was brought up onto the projector. It was not yet playing, and was paused on a still frame that showed an empty greenbelt. But he knew what was to come.

' _Here it goes. That little fiasco earlier was just the calm. This is the storm._ '

* * *

 _ **Addendum: 'Tiny taco shop' is very fun to say out loud. Go on.**_

 _ **Also, I know that in Ace Attorney, trials usually start with prosecution explaining the details of the murder. However, you as the reader already know what happened when Tache explained it in chapter 3. I didn't want to use up the word count re-explaining what you already know! That's why the beginning of this trial skips that part.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_The greenbelt was shown, empty and dim. It was some time early in the morning, but there was a very sparse amount of light. The camera was still recording in night vision mode. Heavy breathing. A figure backed into view of the camera from behind. It was a man, the victim. He held his hands out in front of him fearfully as he faced someone that was still standing behind the camera._

 _"L-look, I'm sorry for whatever I did!" Jacob stammered, panicked. "Why are y-you doing this? Please!" He began backing away again just as she appeared in view._

 _Her back was facing the camera. She continued advancing to the victim until she stopped at a certain spot. That was the place Tache had indicated earlier. The only thing that was in view was the killer's back, right arm, and right shoulder. Beneath her raised arm, which held the handgun, the camera could still see Jacob._

 _"D-don't!" Jacob pleaded. "Ge-get away from me!" Suddenly he shrieked. "HELP! SOMEONE HE—!" His scream was quickly masked by the blaringly loud gunshot. Jacob's body jerked violently before he collapsed onto the ground, still in view._

 _"F-fuck!" he cried as a spot of red began spreading on his shirt. He began to drag himself backwards. The killer's arm lowered, and the handgun was once again aimed down at Jacob._

 _"No!" Then there was a second shot. Jacob's limbs and his head suddenly fell onto the ground like a puppet whose strings had just been cut._

 _The killer hesitated for a second before lowering the gun. Her shoulders pivoted like she was looking around. Then, with a quick flick of her arm, she cast the weapon aside. It flew out of frame, but there was a distinct '_ chk!' _as it landed in a nearby bush. The killer then turned away and briskly ran left out of the camera's view. The last few frames showed the greenbelt as it had been before, but this time with a lifeless body._

* * *

It was then that the lights in the room suddenly returned. Apollo tore his eyes away from the projection, squinting in the harsh glare.

"As you can see," he heard Klavier announce, "this footage is quite conclusive. We can see very clearly that the murderer is the defendant sitting here, nein? Herr Judge, I do believe this evidence is decisive enough for a verdict."

"That is quite true!" the judge agreed. "The footage has laid out the entire story for us! And from what Prosecutor Gavin mentioned earlier, the motive is quite clear! I think we can all come to an agreement and say that—."

"W-wait!" Apollo shouted loudly, causing the judge to jump.

"Mr. Justice!" the judge snapped. "Please don't do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh… sorry," Apollo said sheepishly. "It's just that you didn't give me a chance to have a say in the matter."

"What is there to say?" Klavier asked. "Everything this court needs to determine the verdict is in that video we just watched. Is there really a need to question such solid evidence?"

Apollo slammed both hands on the desk, glaring daggers at Klavier… or what he hoped seemed like daggers. "If my client is innocent, as I believe she is, then there is something wrong in that footage!"

"There is no need for this, Mr. Justice!" the judge argued. "We do not need to complicate this any further!" Suddenly, Klavier put his hand up.

"It's cool, Herr Judge. If the defense thinks there is something fishy with the footage, then we must explore all possibilities, shouldn't we? A woman's life hangs in the balance, after all. So, Herr _Justice_ , what problem do you have with the video?"

"Well…" Apollo tapped a finger on his forehead. "Well…" He suddenly remembered his conversation with Phoenix yesterday. "The defendant's face is never shown in the video! You don't know for sure that it was her!"

Klavier chuckled. "Come now," he mused. "If you are just going to grasp at straws, at least do it with more _style_. So what if the defendant's face is never revealed on screen? Every other characteristic of the killer resembles her!" It was true. The killer in the video wore Terry's tank top and cargo pants. The colors were unidentifiable because of the night vision mode. Even her right arm was covered in tattoos, just like Terry's was!

"If I covered my face, I promise you anyone would still be able to identify me. Well, maybe that's an unfair example, given that _anyone_ would recognize _me_. So if we put a bag over your head, Herr Forehead, your close friends would still know who you are based on those tacky red threads you've got on." He gave Apollo a wide grin. Apollo merely stared back with a depressed look. "Was that the only complaint you have?"

' _No… no, it can't be the only thing! There has to be something wrong with this 'perfect' evidence!'_ Apollo thought desperately. ' _Think, Apollo, think! If it's not Terry in that video, then what could tell us that it wasn't?_ '

"Her voice!" Apollo threw out. "We never hear her voice in the video!"

" _Objection!_ One does not have to speak to commit murder," Klavier countered smoothly. Apollo's fingers dug into his arm.

' _I'm at the end of my rope!'_ he thought. ' _There's nothing I can say! How do you find a contradiction in footage? No… hold on. A camera just shows what it sees. I have to think of alternative explanations, not contradictions. If I truly believe that it's not Terry in the video, then…_ '

"You shouldn't gloss over these details so quickly," Apollo said. "The killer in the video is not the defendant!"

"That is something that you seem to so vehemently want us to believe, yet fail to prove," Klavier replied. "If you are just stalling, then it's time to stop. A good performer also knows when to end the show."

Apollo ignored him. "Your Honor, don't you find it odd how this video excludes the killer's face and voice? Those are the two key components needed to _absolutely_ identify the killer in the video!"

"Absolutely identify?" the judge echoed, blinking in confusion. "Justice, what exactly is your point?"

"It's as Prosecutor Gavin said earlier. Cover my face, and my friends will know me by my _red clothes_!" ' _And they're not tacky, Gavin_.' Again, his fists slammed the desk. "But imagine this: what if _someone else wore my clothes?_ There's no way of telling if it's _really_ me unless you see my face or hear my voice!"

The jury erupted with jabber. Apollo could hear a few members agreeing with his theory. This chatter was routinely followed by the slam of the gavel.

"And you are suggesting that…?" the judge questioned.

"He means that the woman in the video is someone who has donned on the attire of the defendant," Klavier clarified. "In other words, Herr Forehead is saying that the killer in the video is…" He snapped his fingers. " _An imposter._ "

The judge stared at the two men with wide eyes, scarcely blinking. "An imposter?" he cried incredulously. "Why that's… that's quite…"

"Herr Judge, I'm certain that many members of the jury are as confused as you are. The prosecution requests a 15-minute recess to allow all members of the court to gather their thoughts," Klavier said without breaking his amused gaze from Apollo.

Apollo stared back, unflinching. ' _He's going to use this break to try and find a way to tear down the doubt I've created. I need to be ready to fight back._ '

The members of the jury were already filing out of the courtroom. "I thought this was going to be a short trial," he heard one of them mumble to another. "And to think, even the credibility of a video can be questioned. These lawyers are batshit crazy."

Apollo followed the crowd out into the defendant lobby. With an exhausted sigh, he plopped down on a wooden bench, leaning his head back against the wall. ' _You've made it this far. I guess that's an achievement. But am I going to have enough to cross the finish line?_ '

"Very impressive, Monsieur Justice!" a voice greeted. Apollo jumped and brought his head up as Ethan sat on the bench beside him. "I was worried that video was going to be a brick wall for you, but you plowed right through it! You know," Ethan admitted with a chuckle, "I half-expected you to claim that the video was computer generated or something!"

"Thanks, Tache," Apollo said. "But I'm pretty sure I haven't convinced the entire court yet. Plus, no doubt Prosecutor Gavin's going to return to court with a comeback."

"Ah, _la riposte!_ You're going to need some more ammunition to defend your stance, aren't you? Don't worry! I'm sure that somewhere in that leather padfolio and that spikey head, you've got the answer!"

"Uh… okay."

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a tangled mess of white cords. Then, meticulously, he began to unravel the earbuds. "Monsieur, I have a request to ask of you," he said, still busy with the wires.

"Yeah?"

"If you do not mind, I would like to join you at the defense's bench once this break is over."

Apollo blinked. "Yeah, sure! That's fine with me." He sat up, and in a much quieter voice said, "Detective, why are you helping me?"

"I'm a Samaritan," Ethan answered playfully. "But to be perfectly honest with you, I owe Mademoiselle Everett a favor."

"Terry?"

"No. Daina. I owe her, and this is my recompense to her."

Apollo gave Ethan a curious look. ' _Is that so? I wonder why.'_

"We should be heading back in," Ethan alerted, his eyes flickering up the clock. "The recess is almost over. Shall we go in and dominate?"

"The break's over _already?_ " Apollo cried. "I haven't even thought up a strategy yet!"

Ethan waved dismissively. "Ah, fuck it! We'll wing it and hope for the best, okay?"

* * *

Her heels clicked rhythmically against the polished tile floor. She clutched her brown handbag nervously under her arm as she made her way down the large hallway. Was this the right place? God, she was so lost! It didn't help that her body was still numb from the five-hour plane ride, and that her mind was still exhausted from the lack of sleep in the past 24 hours.

Suddenly, she heard voices ahead! Her speed picked up as she hurried towards this new beacon of light. Quickly, she rounded a corner and saw the last of a group of people walking past a pair of double doors into a courtroom. There it was!

She hastened her steps, trying to catch up. The bailiff was already beginning to close the doors.

"Wait! Wait, please!" Daina cried as she rushed over. The bailiff paused as she approached.

"Ma'am, there is currently a trial underway in this courtroom," he said sternly. Daina hesitated. She had to get in there!

' _Remember that piece of advice Katie told you?'_ Daina thought to herself. ' _The one where if you act confident enough, nobody will question if you belong someplace or not? Granted, she was a bit drunk when she said it, and she meant it as a joke, but what the hell!'_

"Of course," Daina said with an apologetic smile. Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag. "I'm part of the jury, sir. I was in the bathroom, so that's why I'm a little late. So sorry about that!" Her heart was ready to burst out of her chest as the bailiff considered her for a few seconds. Finally, he widened the door. "Hurry to your place, Ma'am," he instructed. "The proceedings are about to resume."

"Yes, thank you!" Daina replied. As she walked past the bailiff, her eyes widened with shock. _'Holy shit! That worked?'_ She scanned the seats among the jurors and was relieved to find a vacant one near the front of the court. Giving a quick mental apology to whoever's spot she was stealing, she sat down.

Her seat was on the defense's side of the court. The defense's bench was below her, but she dared not risk looking suspicious by peering over the edge at the defense attorney. Daina's eyes wandered to the opposite side of the court, where the prosecution was. Wait a second… She leaned forward, her eyes concentrated. Was that…? No way…

Daina pulled her gaze away, lest she attract the prosecutor's attention with her eye contact. She spotted the defendant's chair. Terry! A bittersweet smile formed on her lips. It had been so, so long!

The slam of a gavel startled Daina. She glanced towards the front of the room. The judge was sitting at his bench.

"Order! The trial has resumed!"

* * *

 _ **Addendum: It also helps if you have a clipboard, too.**_


	7. Chapter 7

This time, the courtroom became deathly silent in a matter of seconds. The judge took a deep breath before speaking again. "Well, this trial has certainly taken a quick turn! It seems the defense has raised doubt on the merit of this 'decisive' evidence. Prosecutor, do you have a rebuttal?"

All eyes turned to the prosecution. However, their anxious ears were met with silence. Klavier stood there, his head lowered. Apollo watched intently. The prosecutor's face was turned down from the light, but could he see a hint of a smile?

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a single word. "Luck."

"What was that?" the judge asked.

"Luck," Klavier repeated, raising his head. On his face was a gentle smile. To Apollo, it looked terrifying as hell. "Ja, it is true that the defendant's face and voice are excluded from this footage. Some uncontrollable coincidence caused the killer to be facing away from the camera, and she happened to not say a word as she murdered poor Herr Rhune. But all other evidence points to the defendant, our Teresa Everett, being the murderer. Her and the killer's appearance are uncanny! Additionally!" He hit the wall behind him as Apollo internally groaned. ' _Additionally? Here it comes._ '

"Recall the victim's words before he was shot. 'I'm sorry for whatever I did.' As we have established before, the defendant has a clear motive for murder: revenge on the victim."

" _Objection!_ " Apollo suddenly cried, finally relieved for an opportunity to do so. "He said 'whatever'! He didn't specify what he was sorry for, nor did it sound like he knew what he was being killed for!"

"The man was clearly in a state of panic! I doubt he'd even be able to recall his date of birth with a gun-wielding killer chasing him," Klavier shot back. He relaxed and slipped his hands into his pockets again. "Fine, then by my own theory, his last words are no use. But like I said before, the defendant has a reason to kill Herr Rhune. Why would an imposter dress up as the defendant and kill him instead?"

"The same reason as ever!" Apollo replied. "To frame someone else for the crime!"

Klavier chuckled. "Why of course. To shift the blame and the consequences away from themselves. But tell me, Herr Forehead. Why not dress up in a black hoodie and a ski mask instead? Why dress up as the defendant? It is to my knowledge that she only recently returned from overseas. No one would know what she looked like, let alone dress up as her to the exact detail. And besides, neither the killer nor the victim seemed to notice the camera; otherwise the murder would not have taken place in front of it! Why be disguised for a seemingly witness-less crime?"

The jury rose up in chatter again. All save for one, who kept her furious gaze on the prosecutor. Below her, Apollo leaned tensely on the tabletop. A bead of sweat glided down his temple. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ethan glance at him.

The gavel slammed. "I have to agree with the prosecution on this one," the judge said. "The idea of an imposter dressing up as the defendant and shooting the victim seems a little far-fetched. And without proof, your theory is just… a theory!"

The judge's words seem to echo back and forth in Apollo's head. His mind was swimming. ' _What can I say? What evidence do I have? The autopsy report, the murder weapon, and what else? Everyone is back to going against me! I was so close!'_

"It seems the defense has nothing more to say," Klavier noted, contently snapping his fingers to an invisible beat.

"Indeed," the judge agreed. "Then I believe we have a verdict that needs to be declared." He cleared his throat. "With the information that has been presented today, the court determines that—."

" _HOLD IT!"_

The judge stopped in his tracks. The smile dropped from Klavier's face. The jury held its collective breath. Apollo jumped, as the loud voice had come from beside him. He turned his head and looked at Ethan, who regarded the judge with a calm look.

"Detective Tache?" the judge asked. "Is there a reason for your interruption?"

"Your Honor, there is something that's been bothering me."

"What? Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"No, Your Honor. I noticed something that was a little bit off, and it's been bothering me for a while. May I… show the court something? Please, this will be worth your time."

The judge hesitated, torn between shooting Ethan's request down for startling him and allowing him to speak for the sake of the case. Finally, he gave a curt nod. "Go ahead. Make it quick, Detective."

"Merci, Your Honor." Turning to the back of the courtroom, Ethan called out, "Could you pull up the video again? Bring it up to the 00:57 mark, please. Just the frame." The room dimmed once more. A single image from the video was brought up. It was the moment right before the killer's first shot. She had her arm extended, pointed at the victim.

Suddenly, with a soft grunt, Tache vaulted over the defense's bench and began walking around the center of the courtroom.

"Je suis désolé, but I'm a bit of a firearms nerd. I was able to identify this gun before police pulled it from the bushes from these images alone. I'm sure that our good defendant here is also very familiar with the weapon?" He gave Terry an inquisitive look. "Mademoiselle?"

Terry gave a small nod. "Desert Eagle," she replied quietly.

"Oui." He suddenly raised a hand, as though apologizing. "Don't take that to be suspicious, Your Honor. I'm sure you are aware of the defendant's extensive military career?" He then turned back to the court. "Desert Eagle. Mark XIX, to be exact." Ethan gave a low whistle has he dug his hand into the pockets of his leather jacket. "Incredibly sexy gun. It's such a shame it was used this way."

"Herr Tache, would you get to the point?" Klavier demanded, a hint of irritation in his tone.

"But of course!" Tache began slowly walking up and down the court as he spoke. "As you all know, the Desert Eagle is perhaps the most well-recognized handgun in the world, aside from the revolver. A very popular appeal of the Desert Eagle, especially Mark XIX, is the _power_ it has."

"Power?" the judge repeated.

"Oui, Your Honor. Its kickback is nothing to sneeze at. One would need to be very careful and very experienced before firing one of those babies, otherwise that shoulder's going to pop right out."

' _Thanks for the imagery, Tache. Very lovely_ ,' Apollo thought. He wondered where Ethan was going with this.

"Now I'm sure that our defendant is very aware of this. And I am also certain that she knows how to deal with violent recoils. Mademoiselle Everett." He turned to face Terry again. "Can you point out some errors in the killer's handling of the firearm?" He gestured at the still-frame on the wall.

A light seemed to flicker in Terry's eyes. She looked up at the projection. "Both arms should be gripping it for precision," she pointed out. "And the right thumb should be up against the back strap to minimize the kickback."

"Wh-what? Back strap?" the judge said, staring vacantly between Terry and Ethan.

"The back of the gun's grip, Your Honor," Ethan clarified quickly. He then raised both arms like a theatrical gesture. "Members of the court, do you wonder why the defendant, an experienced marine, would shoot the victim in such an incorrect way? Why, I'd have to say shooting like that most likely hurt the killer's arm! Mademoiselle Everett, how is your right shoulder?"

"It's fine," Terry answered. Ethan suddenly slapped her shoulder blade. "I'm sure you are." She gave him a surprised and irritated look.

' _She didn't even flinch_ ,' Apollo noticed, relieved. ' _Did Tache really just save my rear?_ ' It was then that the Detective shot him a look.

"Of course, Your Honor, I'm only presenting my professional opinion. The defense and prosecution may use that information as they please."

' _That-that's right!'_ "That's right, Your Honor!" Apollo cried. "There is too much evidence that questions the identity of the killer in the video! The defense requests an additional day to investigate this further!"

The jurors began to murmur. This time, the judge did not silence them. He sat quietly on his bench, pondering. Finally, he glanced up at Apollo. "Very well," he said. "A verdict shall not be named today. We will reconvene at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning." The gavel slammed. "Court is dismissed."

* * *

Klavier Gavin gave a heavy sigh as he exited the courtroom. Of course the trial was going to get complicated. He should have expected nothing less when his opponent was Apollo Justice. Still, Apollo had raised a few good points. He was beginning to question his own resolve. Maybe Teresa Everett wasn't guilty. But how could that be?

He brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes as he made his way down to the main entrance. Suddenly, Klavier heard the rapid clicking of heels and saw a figure approaching him in his peripheral vision. He turned his head and stopped in his tracks.

It was like she had stepped out of his dream. Seeing her was so surreal after all of these years. She was marching straight at him. Her black heels, dark skinny jeans, colorful top, bolero jacket, and her long, wavy hair… She was too picture perfect. The sight made old feelings bubble up in his chest. As she drew closer, he was prepared to say something warm to her, something to let her know that—.

 _SMACK!_ In a split second, Klavier's vision went completely white. Then he found himself confronted by Daina's furious face, his cheek stinging. All fuzzy feelings instantly disappeared.

"You have quite a way of greeting people," he mumbled, gingerly touching his cheek with his fingertips. Daina leaned in towards him.

"I heard what you said!" she hissed venomously. "I heard what you called my sister! A killer! A murderer! Who do you think you are?"

Klavier took a step back from this fuming, crazy woman. "A prosecutor, Fräulein. It's what my job requires me to do."

"I can't believe you!" Daina snapped. Suddenly, the fire left her eyes as she regained a hold of herself. Daina suddenly drew back, and then glanced down at the floor. "I… I guess that's true," she muttered. "I didn't… hurt you too bad, did I?"

"The face is fine, Fräulein. Most of the damage was to my heart, anyway," Klavier joked.

Daina's lips twitched as she fought down a smile. "Oh, shut up," she said coldly, finally breaking into a reluctant grin.

"Now what's this? Is Daina finally back? I was beginning to wonder who that fiery vixen was!" Finally, Daina looked up at him. It looked like she was about to say something back when a loud voice called out.

"Well, _well!_ If it isn't good ol'Bonnethead!" Both turned to see Ethan Tache approaching them with a wide grin.

' _Not him!'_ Klavier thought. ' _Anything but him!'_ But to his surprise, Daina laughed. "Ethan!" she cried cheerfully, rushing over to him and catching him in a hug. The detective embraced her back. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Little Bonnet?"

' _Little Bonnet? He has a nickname for her?!'_ Suddenly he met eyes with Ethan.

"Was the big bad prosecutor bothering you?" Ethan teased as Daina pulled away.

"It's fine," she replied. "You were amazing back there, by the way! Thank you so much!"

"It's nothing. I was just doing what I could. Terry would be glad to see you too, Little Bonnet. I can take you down to the Detention Center right now, if you want," Ethan offered as he and Daina began walking away.

"Really?" Daina gasped. "That would be fantastic!"

Klavier watched the two stroll off before shaking his head with irritation. "Fucking Tache," he muttered under his breath as he stormed away.

* * *

A phone lit up and buzzed as the text message was received. The sender was an unknown number. The phone was unlocked, and the message appeared clear and plain on the screen.

"It worked. Tomorrow, you will testify."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Fucking Tache.**_

 _ **Also, how can she slap?!**_

 _ **I find it hilarious how Klavier's "desk slam" is him hitting the wall. C'mon, man. That wall's just trying to get by like the rest of us. Desks, on the other hand, were meant to be slammed.**_


	8. Chapter 8

"Honestly, you don't need to worry," Terry reassured firmly. "That lawyer kid is a lot smarter than I took him for. If he keeps it up, I'll be outta here in no time. God, I miss my bed."

Daina gave her sister a sympathetic smile. It had been a few years since she had seen Terry in person, yet the glass between them made it feel no different from the Skype calls they would have. "I hope that's the case," she replied.

"Yeah. And speaking of lawyers, I'm sure you noticed who the prosecutor is. Quite a shock to see him again, isn't it, Dinky?" Terry said with a smirk. Daina looked down at her lap, turning pink. "I-I guess…"

"Again?" Ethan echoed, looking up from his phone screen. Daina winced. "It's nothing!" she said quickly. Before Ethan could pry any further, the detective's phone lit up and began ringing loudly. It was an incoming call from one Ema Skye.

"Ack! Sorry, ladies," Ethan apologized as he jumped up. "Let me take this real quick. I'll be right back." He hurried out the visitor's room as he brought the phone up to his ear. "Allô? Something the matter, Detective?"

"The trial over yet?" Ema's voice asked from the other end.

"Postponed," Ethan answered. "Why?"

"There's someone here saying they witnessed the Rhune murder. I need you to come down to the precinct and speak with her," Ema replied.

"Now?" Ethan said, running a hand through his hair. "I have things to do. Can't you take care of it?" After visiting Terry, he had planned on helping Daina unpack and settle down.

He heard Ema give an irritated sigh. Then came the loud crunches of chewing. "This is _your_ case, remember? I have my own work to do!" she grumbled after the symphony of munches.

"Why the rainy mood, mon chérie? Your investigation not going well?" Ethan asked lightly. He recalled that Detective Skye was looking into the murder case of a young woman who had been found in an alley. It was quite the grisly scene.

"You could say that," Ema mumbled back. "Forensics can't pick up anything regarding the killer." More munching. Ethan could almost feel her blood pressure rising through the line. "And this is the third killing that's like this! I think we're dealing with a serial killer." The munching grew quicker in frequency.

"Serial killer? Well that'll make me sleep easy tonight," Ethan remarked darkly. "And Detective, you really need to lay off of those sugar bombs."

"They're called _Snackoos_ , Ethan."

"Your gut doesn't care what they're called. As far as it's concerned, you're nuking it with sugar," Ethan retorted.

"Snackoos have nutritional value! Like, they have… anyway, get over here, will you?" Ema demanded, flustered.

Ethan chuckled. "Sure thing. Be there in a bit." He hung up and proceeded to reenter the visitor's room.

"Where are you staying?" Terry was asking as he walked in.

"Your place. The spare's open, right?" Daina said.

"Yeah, but you can use my room if you want," Terry said. "The spare's been empty for a while. I don't know how clean it is."

"I'll be fine."

Terry looked up as Ethan reentered. "Enjoy your phone call?" she asked.

"It was alright," Ethan replied lightheartedly. He gave Daina a tap on the shoulder. "Something's come up, Bonnet. We need to wrap this up. Sorry, Terry."

"It's okay. Visiting hours are almost up, anyway," Terry replied. "You should get going and get your stuff unpacked, okay Daina? And give Mordy a hug for me."

"I will. Bye, Terry!" Daina said as she stood up. "You're going to get out tomorrow, right?" Ethan gently took her arm and began to lead her away. She looked over her shoulder at Terry.

"Don't worry about me."

* * *

The first few minutes of the car ride were very quiet. Ethan took his eyes off of the red light for a moment to quickly glance at Daina. She was quietly staring out the window. Ethan reached for the music knob, but then changed his mind.

Resting his free arm against the edge of the window, he said, "Again? What did she mean by that?"

"Hmm?" Daina murmured, looking back at Ethan.

"You know Prosecutor Gavin?"

Daina's eyes widened. "Oh, that? I…" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned back, staring directly ahead. "I went to one of his shows a few years ago. You know, back when he was still playing."

"Huh," Ethan replied. "I didn't know you were a fan of that kind of music. Or were you there for the eye candy?" The light turned green. As he pressed down on the gas, the truck gave a low, guttural roar as it accelerated forward.

"No!" Daina yipped defensively. "Terry had a buddy that was originally going to go with his friend, but apparently his sister got into a really bad accident. He went out-of-state to go see her, and he gave the tickets to Terry." She shifted in her seat and crossed her arms over her stomach. "This was right after I broke up with Jake," she said, her voice quiet. "I thought going might do me some good."

"Ah, yes. It appears your love of music is still strong," Ethan replied cheerfully. ' _Jacob Rhune, the victim,_ ' he thought grimly to himself. _'That fils de salope who wasted five years of Daina's life._ ' He was a little surprised to his coldness towards the deceased. But then again, not all dead deserved respect. He knew that better than anyone.

"Ethan?" Daina's voice brought him back to reality. "Terry… she didn't do it, right?"

"She is innocent," Ethan replied. He gave Daina a quick, reassuring smile. "Try not to fret too much, Bonnet. Everything will be fine." He spun the wheel and quickly turned into a small little alcove. They found themselves in a tiny parking lot with a small building. Behind the building, making it look skimpy in comparison, was a grand tower. It appeared to be a hotel of some sort.

Daina peered at the small building skeptically. "This… is it?" she asked. "I was expecting a pound."

"Non. According to your sister, the defense attorney is currently looking after Mordecai," Ethan answered. He switched the truck into park. "Do you want me to pick you up after I'm done at the CA?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Daina said as she opened the car door. "I'll get a cab."

"Really? LA's a big place," Ethan warned. Daina gave him sardonic look. "So is New York City," she replied. "No, really, I'm fine. Thanks, Ethan."

"Take care, Bonnet."

* * *

She was already waiting outside of the Criminal Affairs building, her arms crossed and her face staring crabbily into space. Ethan hurried his pace to a jog when he spotted her. She didn't seem to notice him even when he came closer.

"Afternoon, Detective! Sorry for the wait!" Ethan greeted brightly as he stopped in front of her. "So where's this witness?"

Ema Skye jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards the building. "Interrogation Room Number Two," she mumbled. Ethan nodded and was about to head into the building, but stopped. "You waiting for something?" he asked.

"A ride," Ema answered. "I'm going to go see an old friend about a certain issue."

"Right. See you around, Detective," Ethan said as he headed into the building. The interior was bustling with activity like always. The detective passed the front desk and immediately walked into the hallway on the left, the place where interrogation rooms and holding cells were located.

Ethan stopped in front of the second interrogation room and took a quick moment to collect his thoughts. If this person witnessed the murder to Terry's trial, she would need to speak to the prosecutor in charge of the case. In that case, it was the oh-so lovely Gavin.

' _Doesn't mean I can't get a few words in first_ ,' Ethan justified to himself. He turned back to the door and entered the interrogation room. It contained a single table and two chairs that sat opposite to each other. A single guard and a security camera occupied the corners. On the wall was a one-way mirror. Normally, there would be people behind it observing the conversation.

The witness sat in one of the seats. She was young, probably at the age of a college student. The thing that stuck out the most to Ethan was her Qi Pao dress. It wasn't something you saw every day.

The detective strode to his chair. Before he sat down, he offered his hand to the girl. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Detective Ethan Tache." The girl regarded his hand silently with her pale green eyes, and then hesitantly shook it. "Luna," she replied. Her voice was quiet, but firm.

"Nice to meet you," Ethan said as he sat down in his chair. "That's a very lovely dress, Miss…?"

"Sky," Luna replied. "Luna Alina Sky. And thank you."

The detective raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?" He leaned back and rested an arm against the back of his chair. "You wouldn't happen to have family that works in the force, do you?"

Luna gave him a little frown. "No," she replied. "Why?"

"Ah, nothing," Ethan said. "Must be a common surname then." He leaned forward and rested both arms on the table. "Now, Miss Sky, it is to my knowledge that you claim you are an eyewitness to the murder?"

"Yes," Luna said.

"And you can recall the events well?"

"I can."

"Bon. But let me ask you a question: why didn't you approach us sooner?" Ethan asked. "You do realize that the trial already started?"

"I… didn't really want to talk about it," Luna responded thoughtfully. "And I figured that the video was all you needed."

Ethan's eyes flicked curiously up to Luna's. She stared back, and then broke her gaze to flip her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder. "How did you know about the video?" the detective inquired.

"Everyone knows about the video," the girl replied, now idly fiddling with the sleeve of her dress. "The media hasn't been exactly tight-lipped about this trial. And I wouldn't even be surprised if the video is on Liveleak right now."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Of course. It's pretty hard to keep secrets in this day and age," he agreed. He stood up. Luna looked up at him with surprise. "Aren't you going to ask me about what I saw?" she asked.

"That is not my job," Ethan replied as he pushed his chair in. "You need to speak to the prosecution about anything concerning this trial. But before that, he'll need you to sign a few things. I don't know. It's legal mumbo-jumbo," he said with a wave of his hand. "Come along, Mademoiselle. I'll take you to the prosecutor's building."

* * *

It was hardly any use. He had been shuffling through the same papers over and over again, even though he was already familiar with their contents. If there were something to be discovered between the lines, then he would have already noticed it by now.

Klavier shut the binder and leaned back in his chair. He reached over and picked up the guitar that had been leaning against his desk. It was a nice, heavy acoustic guitar. Of course, it wasn't nearly as nice as the one he had lost a while back, but hey. Absent-mindedly, he began to pluck a few chords.

Suddenly the cordless phone rang. Klavier scooted closer to the desk. He unhooked the phone and rested it beside the base, then pressed the speaker button.

"Ja?" he answered, setting the guitar back down.

"Mr. Gavin, the witness is here," the receptionist's voice informed him.

"Okay. Send them up," Klavier replied.

After a few moments, there was a knock. "Come in!" Then, a head peeked in. And who better should it be than Ethan Tache? The detective glanced around the office with a giddy look.

"No Christmas lights, mon chérie? I'm disappointed," he said.

Klavier ignored his stupid comment. "The witness, Tache?" he asked.

"Hello to you too," Ethan replied before he opened the door wider. The witness, the young woman, appeared. "This is Prosecutor Gavin, Mademoiselle. Don't be taken aback by his appearance. He's actually quite a normal person," Ethan introduced. "And Gavin, this is Luna Alina Sky… er, no relation to the detective." Luna stepped into the office, surveying it.

"How do you do, Fräulein?" Klavier greeted, rising to his feet.

"I'm good," Luna said.

Ethan suddenly cleared his throat. "Well, I best be off," he declared. "Miss Sky, it's been quite pleasant speaking to you." He extended his left hand again. Luna took it. Ethan gave her a smile as he gave her hand a firm shake. The prosecutor noticed how Luna seemed to tense. As he dropped his hand, Ethan gave Klavier a grin. "Hmm. Interessant." He quickly turned around and headed out the door. Giving a wave over his shoulder, he said, "See you tomorrow, Playboy."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Luna's character was generously lent to my by 'sen whitefox mako red demon.' If you'd like, drop by their account to check out what they have. AND, if you want to see your character make a cameo in this story, drop me a PM and I'll see if I can work it out. Just know that as the plot has mostly already been planned, your character may only have a short little cameo.**_

 _ **Also, just watched Jurassic World. Starting with the next chapters, there will be dinosaurs in this story. Just kidding. But yeah, good movie.**_


	9. Chapter 9

Pushing open the heavy glass door, Daina found herself in a very… odd room. Outside, there had been a sign labeled 'Wright Anything Agency.' Daina wasn't quite sure what that meant. Was this a law firm or not?

That question blared up in her head again as she looked around. Was this some kind of joke? The room was cluttered with things, especially with props Daina would expect in a magic show. The state of the agency's "lobby" was worse than the aftermath of one of Katie's house parties.

To make matters worse, there was no one around. The lights were off, as though it was afterhours. It was only one in the afternoon. Perhaps everyone was away for lunch breaks.

Daina cleared her throat quietly and stepped forward. "Mordecai?" she called softly. There was no answer. The deserted place was starting to feel a little spooky. Daina wrapped her arms over her stomach and began walking around, keeping an eye out for random things on the floor. The sound of her heels echoed through the building. It truly felt like she was intruding.

' _This is their public office,_ ' Daina reasoned to herself. ' _I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I waited for them_.' She pushed a few cluttered objects aside on the sofa and sat down. The room was still quite lit because of the sunlight pouring in through the windows, but it elongated every shadow in the building.

Something caught the girl's eye. Someone was staring down at her. But as she looked up, Daina realized it wasn't a person; it was a portrait. Hanging up high on the wall was the bluish portrait of a man in a top hat. Still, his eyes seemed to stare straight at her.

Suddenly, a buzz from her pocket made her jump. Daina let out a deep breath as she pulled her phone out. It was a text from an unknown number.

"I love you. We are soul mates."

It was the same unknown number that had texted her back in New York, right after she had gotten off the phone with the attorney. But now the message was starting to become a little weirder. Who could it be? Daina thought of all the possibilities. It couldn't be Terry, even though her sister was capable of this kind of humor; she was still detained. It wasn't Ethan because he was one of her contacts. Then, she thought of Klavier Gavin. Hmm… it was possible.

' _If it's him, then he's a lot more creepy than he lets on. I know we… met… before, but that was just a one-time fling. No strings attached, right? And anyway, who says this kind of thing?'_ Daina reasoned with herself. She frowned a little as she continued to stare at the message. A little thought encroached from the back of her mind. Even if it was a little weird, she couldn't help but feel a little flattered, especially given who Klavier was.

' _Ugh, what am I thinking? He's trying to land your sister in prison! So what if he's cute? Let's not be so shallow, okay Daina?'_ She was about to navigate away from the messages and browse her apps when a bubble popped up, indicating that the unknown contact was typing. Daina watched it for a few seconds. Then the message appeared.

"Don't ignore me. I know you're there. I can see you."

Her heart skipped. She suddenly jumped to her feet, wildly looking around. Her eyes met the eyes of the man in the portrait, and a fierce chill ran through her. _I can see you_.

Daina snatched up her handbag, preparing to leave. Frightened, she wanted to call Ethan, but she knew he would be busy. Maybe she should respond back to the unknown contact and try to find out who it was? These thoughts raced through her head as she hurried to the door. But as she reached the glass door, two figures suddenly appeared behind it and pulled the door open. Daina jumped back and let out a frightened scream.

The two figures jumped as well. The smaller one quickly grabbed the door as it began to swing shut and threw it open. Daina found herself confronted by a young man in red, and a teenage girl in blue. The boy in red clutched his chest with a hand and let out an exasperated breath.

"Sorry!" he apologized, a little breathless. "We didn't see you behind the door because of the sun's glare." He paused a moment to catch his breath. "Holy moly, you really gave me a heart attack back there!" It was then that Daina noticed a dark blue car peeling out of the parking lot behind him.

"Um, I didn't mean to—," Daina apologized quickly, but was interrupted by a series of joyous barks. Pushing himself in between the two was a large German Shepherd. He quickly scurried over to Daina, gazing adoringly at her with its brown eyes. Its tail was a blur.

"Oh, Mordy!" Daina cried out, forgetting her fear. She knelt down. "My little Mordecai!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Mordecai squirmed happily as he tried twisting around to lick her face.

"Aww, look at that, Polly!" Trucy cooed. "I love reunions!"

Daina let Mordecai go. The dog leaned forward and gave her a quick lick on the chin. "Yes, I know! I'm happy to see you too, boy!"

"You're Daina, right? Terry's sister?" Apollo asked. Daina looked up and quickly rose to her feet.

"Yeah! Sorry, I just… It's nice to meet you!" she chirped as she stuck her hand out. "And you're Apollo Justice, right? Terry's lawyer?"

Apollo took her hand. "That's me," he said, quite impressed that she remembered his name from a single phone call.

"I really appreciate what you're doing, Mr. Justice!" Daina said. She looked down at Trucy, and immediately her face brightened. "And who are you, sweetheart?"

"Trucy Wright!" the girl answered.

"Oh? I bet your family owns this place, don't they? Your hair is very cute, by the way," Daina replied. Trucy gave her a bashful smile. Daina looked back at Apollo. "I didn't mean to barge in."

"It's fine," Apollo dismissed. "You're here to talk about the trial, aren't you?"

"Actually I came to pick Mordecai up," Daina confessed. "But now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind talking about the trial today. I arrived a little late, so I only saw the end of it."

' _So she didn't see the video,_ ' Apollo thought. Then, an idea came to mind. "Daina, could you help me with something?" he asked as he pulled out his padfolio. He walked over to a nearby table and opened it.

"Sure," Daina replied, following him. Mordecai trotted at her heels. She watched as Apollo pulled out a picture. It was the still frame that Ethan had displayed in court.

"You know Terry better than anyone," Apollo said as he laid the picture in front of Daina. "I was just wondering if you could spot anything strange in this picture."

Daina's hand hovered over the victim. "That's…" she murmured softly. It clenched into a fist and she drew it away from the picture. "Something strange about what?"

"Anything," Apollo answered.

Daina leaned down as she scrutinized the picture. Her dark hair slipped from her shoulders and cascaded onto the tabletop, but she was too focused to fix it. "This isn't her," she mumbled she scanned the picture. "Then there has to be something missing." Then her eyes focused onto one spot in the picture. "Sammy," she said in a whisper.

"What was that?" Apollo asked.

Daina straightened up. "Sammy," she said. "He… he was a close friend of Terry's. They served in the same fire squad before she got promoted. But then…" Daina looked away. "I don't really know what happened. Terry doesn't like talking about it. Sammy… died in action. Terry was there too." She swallowed and glanced back at the picture. "That's why she's back. To recuperate from that event. And the first thing she did was add Sammy to her sleeve." She pointed at the killer's arm, which was covered in Terry's tattoos. "Right here, just above the elbow. Terry got a little banner with Sammy's name on it." In the photo, that spot was blank. "If this murder happened just a few days ago, then that tattoo should be there. You can stop by the parlor and ask about it."

"I'll be sure to do that," Apollo said, growing considerably happier. He pulled the picture closer and examined it. "This is just what I need! Ha, we're going to stick it to Gavin in court tomorrow!"

* * *

Ema handed the phone back. "That's… REALLY creepy," she admitted with an uncomfortable smile. "I can't believe someone would say something like that."

Phoenix Wright nodded in agreement. He had shown her the text that had threatened him and the picture that followed. "Whoever it is, they know an uncomfortably large amount about me," he said. "My number, Apollo and Trucy, and what I'm doing."

Ema idly stirred her drink, the cubes in her iced tea clinking gently against each other. The two of them were sitting at an outdoor table in front of a café. The chatter inside was not ideal for their conversation. "And what exactly were you doing? You didn't take up another case after the Rivera one?"

"Nope. I had my suspicions. Thanks for your help with that case, by the way," Phoenix added.

"No problem, Mr. Wright! It was my pleasure!" Ema replied. She took a sip of her tea. "That was one of the most interesting cases I've been a part of," she recalled. "And that's saying a lot. Still, you got the defendant off even without finding the real killer!"

Phoenix's brow furrowed. "And yet I hear he was still arrested after that. Why is that?"

Ema shook her head. "Different crime."

"What crime?"

"He stabbed someone a few days before he was arrested," Ema answered nonchalantly. "The victim survived, though."

"Who was it?"

"A coworker."

Phoenix sighed heavily. "Another detective? It's part of the job, I guess. Ema, you should really try to switch jobs. Try and get into forensics again. Even just being known as a detective will put you in danger in some parts of this city."

"I don't know, Mr. Wright," Ema said with a shrug. "I've kinda gotten used to it. I get my fair share of scientific investigation anyway. And besides…" She smiled mischievously. "I get to wave my badge and yell at people."

Phoenix laughed. "Now doesn't that personify you perfectly?" He sat back in his chair. "Ah, I think we're done with the chitchat. You have to get back to your investigations, right? So why are we out here?"

"Well geez, Mr. Wright. We can't even have a nice conversation," Ema retorted with a roll of her eyes. She grinned to show that she was teasing. "I'm just messing with you. I really need to ask you about the thing you're researching. I have a feeling I know what it is."

"Do you now?"

"Of course! It's a pretty scary, fascinating topic, after all!"

Phoenix regarded Ema with an amused look. But that look was quickly replaced by a solemn one. "Have much experience with serial killers, Ema?"

"Can't say that I have. And I'm grateful for that. So, what tipped you off?"

"The idea came to me after the Rivera case came to a close," Phoenix said. "Of course, I didn't realize that it was a serial killer. Just a clever one. He made sure to stay away from the case and cover up any incriminating clues. The only thing he left was… just the fact that he did it."

"That's exactly what it's like with the next few murders I've seen," Ema pointed out, her voice growing intense. She leaned forward on the table onto her forearms. "A total lack of evidence of a killer besides, well, you know, a murdered person. But the telltale sign that it was a serial ki—." She cut off her sentence as a waitress passed by. She lowered her voice. "It was a serial killer because all of the murders were similar. It's always a young woman, throat slashed, left somewhere. And there's always a creepy note left with the body."

"How many killings so far?" Phoenix asked.

"Three."

"What do the notes say?"

Ema rubbed her arms as though she was cold. "Nothing useful, just delusional things. I remember the latest one said something like, 'My goddess is coming'." Ema clutched her arms and shivered a little. "Just the thought makes my skin crawl. How can there be someone out there like that?"

"Whoever it is, they reached out to me. I've been contacted by a crazed serial killer," Phoenix said dryly. "What a privilege."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Just to clarify to anyone who might be confused- this is the afternoon after the Day 1 Trial. The trial latter is the day after this one. I don't include time stamps because I'm not creative enough to make them.**_

 _ **Also, the cover picture is up. It mostly showcases my OC's, since you know what the canon characters already look like! The two at the top are Daina Everett and Mordecai. The lower right is Terry Everett. Lower left is Ethan Tache. Bam.**_


	10. Chapter 10

_Day Four—Trial Latter_

Nearly all members of the jury were already there by the time Apollo arrived. He looked around, shocked. For a panicked moment, he thought he was late. But the clock on the wall reminded him that there was still fifteen minutes before the start of the trial.

Trucy, who was attending today's conclusive trial, noticed the tense look on his face. "Relax, this case is as good as ours!" she reassured. "We've got some pretty firm evidence, and the witness is bound to slip up!"

"I didn't even get a chance to see who it is," Apollo noted. "It'd help if I had a chance to size this witness up before they testify. If only Detective Tache had let us seen them before taking them to Gavin."

"Well, Ethan's still a member of the law enforcement," Trucy pointed out. "Which means that his department works under prosecution. And despite that, he's helped us fight back against Prosecutor Gavin. I hope he doesn't lose his job."

"Hmm, that does sound a little risky," Apollo admitted as he took a seat in the defendant lobby. "But something tells me that Tache is an important asset to the force. He'll be fine, I hope." He noticed Terry sitting on an opposite bench. She was leaning forward, resting her elbows on her legs, and had her head down. "She looks beat."

"I don't blame her," Trucy said. "Remember what Daina said? She just lost a friend overseas."

"And to rub salt in the wound, she gets slapped with a felony charge the moment she gets back," Apollo murmured sadly. "We really need to win this case for her." As he quieted down, he suddenly became aware of a loud, heated voice just outside the defendant's lobby. He rose quickly. A voice like that meant trouble. With Trucy creeping behind him, Apollo made his way towards the lobby's exit. He opened the door a crack and positioned his head to listen.

"—creepiest shit I've ever seen!" Ethan Tache was growling. "Is that your idea of flirting, or do you think you're hotshot enough to harass women as you please?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I didn't send anything!" It was Klavier. "I don't even have her number!"

"You think I'll believe that horseshit? If you want to talk to her, then do so like a normal goddamned human being! If you scare her again, you'll have to answer to me!"

"What is that supposed to… Detective—!?" The sound of heavy footsteps indicated that Ethan had stormed away. Klavier gave an irritated sigh. "Verdammt!"

Apollo slowly closed the door, hoping no one outside had noticed them.

"Wow, I never knew that the detective had such a foul mouth!" Trucy said in amazement.

"I know. It was like he was a completely different person!" Apollo agreed. It was hard to believe that the smiling, joking Tache had just cussed Prosecutor Gavin out like that.

"I wonder what they were arguing about," Trucy marveled. "It sounded like it was about a girl." Her face suddenly lit up with excitement. "You don't think they're fighting over the same girl, are they?"

"I hope not!" Apollo muttered. "I don't think they need any more rivalry between them. Anyway, let's head into the courtroom before Ethan the Hulk finds us too."

* * *

Court came into session. Apollo barely kept track of who was talking as the trial started. He managed to catch his cue to answer back when the judge asked for the defense, but otherwise his thoughts were on the new information he had acquired yesterday.

The aloofness must have been obvious on his face. He felt a sharp pain in his side as Trucy's elbow dug into it. "Psst! Polly, pay attention!" she hissed. Apollo jolted upright and tried to listen to what was currently being said. Klavier was currently explaining to the court the reason why the witness was only being brought up today.

"This individual did not reach out to us until yesterday. And besides, I presumed that the video was all we needed."

' _Of course they're going to buy that explanation. Nothing suspicious there at all!'_ Apollo thought. ' _Hurry up and bring said witness out! I'm dying to see who it is, and what they have to say about the case.'_

"Very well!" the judge responded. "The prosecution may bring out their witness!"

When she took her place on the stand, Apollo was surprised at her appearance: her dress, long dirty blonde hair, and her set of unwavering green eyes.

' _She looks like she means business,'_ Apollo thought. ' _Well, I do too! Bring it on!'_

"Your name and occupation, please," Klavier said.

"Luna Alina Sky," the girl answered. "I'm an acupuncturist."

"That's a very unique occupation!" the judge noted. "I don't think we've had an acupuncturist take the stand before."

"It's quite relaxing," Luna affirmed. "You should stop by the shop and try it."

' _And pay to get stuck up like a porcupine? I'll pass!'_ Apollo thought, feeling a little bubble of nausea in his gut.

"Acupuncture is like magic!" Trucy said in a hushed voice. "They stick super thin needles into your nerves and twirl them around! And then after that you magically feel better!"

"Trucy, please. You're gonna make me sick," Apollo grumbled, holding a hand over his stomach. "And I don't think the judge would appreciate it if I blew chunks during his session."

Trucy wrinkled her nose. "Blew chunks?" she repeated. "Gross, Apollo. Did you have to say it like that?"

"If the defense is done with their little side conversation," Klavier notified loudly, "we would like to continue to the testimony."

"Does the defense have something it would like to say?" the judge asked, regarding them with a condescending glare. Apollo felt himself grow red. ' _Hey, at least you didn't throw up! Imagine how the court would have reacted to that!'_ Somehow, that didn't help.

"N-no, Your Honor. I'm sorry."

"Now then." Klavier turned his attention back to Luna. "Would you kindly describe to the court what you saw on the night of the murder?"

"Sure," Luna replied.

* * *

"I go to Pike's Peak a few times a week for jogs and short hiking trips. I sometimes venture out into the greenbelt when I get tired of the usual trails. That day, I heard a loud voice. When I went to go check it out, I saw that woman holding a man at gunpoint. He started calling for help, and then she shot him! I was terrified, so I quietly turned and ran away, and that's when I heard the second shot. There was no one around but us three."

* * *

"And neither the killer nor victim noticed you?" Klavier asked.

"No," Luna said. "I crept up quietly to see what was happening. When I saw the gun, I knew something bad was happening, so I stayed hidden. I don't think anyone heard me run away, either."

"It's good that you managed to get away safely!" the judge said. "And your testimony matches perfectly with the video. Mr. Justice, will you still conduct the cross-examination?"

Apollo's hands tightened on the desk. That testimony did sound quite secure, but that was nothing new to him. "I will, Your Honor!" he said.

"Do try to not waste our time, ja?" Klavier requested lightly.

Apollo blew out a deep breath. ' _All right… first thing's first. I gotta find anything strange about the testimony, and then whittle the hell out of it. Think, Apollo! Did you catch anything weird?'_

"Miss Sky, could you care to explain why you were in the park at the time? According to the autopsy report, the murder happened between two and three in the morning," Apollo inquired.

"Sure, whatever," Luna said boredly. "As I've just said, I'm an acupuncturist. Most of my appointments are either very early in the morning, or in the evening. That's when clients don't have work. So when a normal person shows up for work around 8 am, I do so around 5 or 6 in the morning. Before my shifts, I like to start my mornings with a little exercise. It's good for you, Mr. Attorney. Maybe you should start picking up healthy habits like that." She flashed him a grin.

Apollo felt his shoulders sag. ' _Is she attacking my personal life choices? Geez.'_ "So whose voice did you first hear?"

"A man. The victim," Luna stated.

' _Of course,'_ Apollo pondered. ' _Jacob Rhune was the only one talking during the murder. This was a pretty straightforward testimony.'_ Worry began to grow within him.

"Apollo, don't you notice something?" Trucy suddenly whispered. "Her testimony sounds logical as an eyewitness, but that's only because she's being very _vague_. The devil's in the details, remember? Use your super pressing power!"

"Oh, right!" Apollo agreed. Now that he thought about it, Luna's testimony was a word-by-word rendition of what the video showed. Anyone who had seen it could have given that testimony. Time to ask questions only a _real_ eyewitness could answer!

"Now what did he exactly say when you heard him?" Apollo asked.

Luna looked a little annoyed, as though Apollo was wasting her time. "Well, when I got close enough to understand him, I heard him pleading with the killer. He was asking her why she was trying to kill him."

' _I remember that part,'_ Apollo thought. ' _Though something strikes me as odd_.'

"Mr. Justice, is something the matter?" the judge asked, noticing Apollo's slight frown.

"Herr Forehead is wondering how to string logic to a train of thought that's obviously been derailed," Klavier responded smugly.

Apollo lowered his hands onto the desk. "On the contrary, Prosecutor, the train's just arrived at its destination." He glared at Luna. "Miss Sky, how many seconds do you estimate passed between when you understood what he was saying to when the first gunshot sounded?"

Luna paused, staring up to the ceiling as she silently counted with her fingers. "Between six or seven seconds," she answered.

"That's just what I thought," Apollo said firmly. A flash of expression appeared on Luna's face, but she quickly drowned it with a look of disinterest.

"Care to explain, Mr. Attorney, or are we just going to have to read that spikey mind of yours?" she asked.

"Oh, I'll explain," Apollo said, a triumphant look on his face. "If you recall from the video, six or seven seconds prior to the first gunshot would allow you to hear the victim calling out for help. Namely…" Apollo pulled out a script of the video. "… The part where he says 'don't. Get away from me. Someone help'. Right after that, he is interrupted by a shot." He slammed the paper and his hands down on the desk. "But that contradicts what you said earlier. You said you heard him ask the killer why she was trying to kill him. More specifically, he says 'look, I'm sorry for whatever I did. Why are you doing this?' _That happens a good 20 seconds before the first gunshot!_ "

Luna gasped and suddenly pulled something into her arms, hugging it close to herself. It was a red vulpix plushy.

' _Wh-what?!'_ Apollo thought. ' _Where did that come from?'_

"That's true!" the judge agreed. "Well, Miss Sky? Care to explain the contradiction?" Luna stammered a couple of syllables, but otherwise could say nothing.

"I'll do the explaining, Your Honor," Apollo spoke up. "Luna, I believe you when you said you heard him asking the killer. That means you didn't stumble upon the murder while it was happening; you were there the entire time!"

Luna scowled at him as she threw down the plushy with a huff. "And what is that supposed to imply?" she demanded.

"Simple, Fräulein. He is implying that _you_ are the murderer. Of course you would entertain such a silly idea, Herr Forehead," Klavier said. "I'm disappointed that you would even attempt to point fingers like that while such glaring contradictions are staring you in the face."

Apollo felt his spirits droop, along with his hair. "You… you're talking about the killer in the video, aren't you?"

"Need I say more?"

"Didn't we cover this yesterday? There is a good chance the killer in the video isn't the defendant, but an imposter! It's very easy to change into clothes that match Terry Everett's, and any long hair could have been tied up!" Apollo countered.

"True enough," Klavier agreed reluctantly. "But what about that arm? The killer in the video boasts quite the tattoo sleeve. It's exactly like the defendant's, while our witness's arm here is quite bare."

' _Not exactly,_ ' Apollo thought. ' _But I can see how we missed something like this yesterday. That new tattoo, Sammy's banner, is quite small. Well, I got this trial right where I want it. Step aside, Gavin. It's my turn to rock._ '

* * *

 _ **Addendum: "Blow chunks." Beautiful, beautiful imagery.**_

 _ **There, Mako. There's your vulpix plushy.**_

 _ **Also, piss and balls! Klavier knows the magic words! A man chooses; a slave obeys!**_

 _ **And the last line of the chapter has enough cheese in it to make a quesadilla for a family of four.**_


	11. Chapter 11

"Miss Sky," Apollo began slowly and carefully, "on the day of the murder, did you happen to notice the murderer's tattoos?" Luna stared at him with a small frown. It appeared as if she didn't know whether to trust the question or not. Finally, she made a choice.

"I did," she said. "It would be pretty hard not to notice."

"Especially when you testified that the first thing you saw was the raised gun. The killer used her right arm, one that was covered in ink. I'm sure you have a very good eye. Can you recall what the tattoos were?" Apollo continued

Luna crossed her arms. "Don't try to sweet talk me. And sure, I noticed the tattoos. They're exactly as the video showed." She waved her arm vaguely in Terry's direction.

' _Being vague again, are we_?' "I need you to be a little more specific."

"Now hold a beat, Herr Forehead. Exactly where are you going with this line of questioning?" Klavier interrupted. "I don't see how this holds any relevance to the case. Unless, of course, you're trying to find a discrepancy between the murderer's tattoos and the defendant's?"

"You'll see soon enough," Apollo replied. "Answer the question, Miss Sky."

Luna gave a sigh. "Fine," she agreed. "It was a globe-thing, a paw print, and some… some colorful vine thingies."

"At least we know she's not coming up with this on the spot," Trucy whispered. "She didn't look at Terry at all when she was talking. Which means she really did see them that night." A light suddenly came on in her eyes. "But not in the way she wants us to think."

"Exactly," Apollo whispered back. He crossed his arms. "That's a very detailed description for what you supposedly witnessed for less than a minute. In the dark, no less."

Luna flinched and gritted her teeth. She looked down, and Apollo could see her scrunching the vulpix plushy in her hands.

"Because it was a very momentous event," Klavier spoke up. "I'm sure you've had a few of those in your life, right? It's a funny phenomenon where the human brain somehow manages to remember every single minute detail. Why, I can still recall the faces in the front row of my first ever Gavinner's concert."

"That might be true," Apollo said. It was time to fire his hidden bullet. He needed to surprise everyone, especially Luna, with it. Otherwise, all of his efforts yesterday will have been for naught. "So you're certain that those were the pictures you saw? The globe, paw, and vines?"

"Yes," Luna said, her voice growing slightly strained. "Look at the defendant's arm! You can see them right there!"

"What about the banner?"

For the briefest moment, Luna looked genuinely confused. "What banner?" she slipped. Then she pressed her lips together and looked at the floor. "I-I mean…"

' _I've got you now_ ,' Apollo thought. He looked up at the judge. "Your Honor, I've discovered that there's something wrong with this video. Namely, at this moment," he said as he presented the video still frame that he had shown Daina the other day. "Right here." He pointed at the spot above the killer's elbow. "Take a look at this spot on the killer's arm. Now look at the defendant's arm. Do you see something strange, Your Honor?" With a glance, he himself checked Terry's arm. Sure enough, Apollo could see a tiny white banner.

As he looked away, he caught eyes with Klavier. The prosecutor gave him a curious look, and then regarded Luna with a stern look. ' _Gavin already knew. So now are you with me, or are you still against me?'_

"Do I notice something strange? Of course I do!" the judge said, shaking his head. "I consider tattoos themselves strange. It boggles my mind trying to figure out why kids want to go around and mark themselves up! Is it a fashion statement? Or some sort of rebellious act?"

Apollo fought the urge to smack his face against the desk. "Er… I wasn't asking you if you noticed something strange about tattoos, Your Honor. I was asking if you noticed something strange about the _defendant's_ tattoos."

"… Very well," the judge complied. He took a moment to scrutinize the two arms. Suddenly, his face lit up with realization. "Ah!" he chimed. "It's like a find-the-difference! And I think I've found it! What's that little white thing on your arm, Miss Everett?"

"A new tattoo," Terry answered.

"The defendant got it shortly after she returned," Apollo continued. "It was about a week before the murder happened. But in the video, the banner isn't there!" He looked over to Luna. It was time to bring the spotlight back to her. "Why didn't you mention the banner?"

"W-well," Luna began. Then she regained her composure. "Really, you expect me to remember every itty bitty little detail? Like you said: it was dark, and I was hiding." She was trying to retreat back into her shell. But Apollo couldn't let her.

Before he could say anything, Klavier said, "Yesterday when we talked, you seemed pretty adamant about the details of that night. Including the defendant's arm." The prosecutor appeared to have slowly realized the truth. He was beginning to choose his side.

"You can't blame me!" Luna shot back. "Even you guys missed it yesterday!"

"A sad mistake," Klavier admitted. "But do remember that the camera was our eyes. The angle at which the killer's arm was shown was quite poor. In fact, you can still barely see the missing banner in the still frame. Your viewpoint, however, allowed you to see the details that we couldn't. And yet you still couldn't see the banner that's clearly on the defendant's arm?"

"Why are you drilling _me_?" Luna demanded.

Klavier chuckled. "I just want to know what's going on," he said. "If you won't help me, then I can't help you."

Luna began to become visibly upset. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "It's like I told you," she said, her voice growing flat. "I didn't see the banner."

"Because it wasn't there," Apollo finished. "Yet when the murder occurred, my defendant had that tattoo. I have the parlor's record of it. Additionally…" He crossed his arms. "I had a conversation with the artist that gave Terry that tattoo. He gave me some very interesting information."

* * *

 _"Yeah, I remember that 'Sammy' banner. It's pretty hard to forget. Every day you get the average chick wanting a butterfly, or the college schmuck wanting his girl's name." The young man took a moment from his stencil to scratch his chin. "But then you get the ones who want to remember their loved ones in ink. I'm glad to do it for them, but I can't help but feel a little down while I'm at it. I'm sketching their names or their portraits and thinking to myself, 'Man, this person was probably chill. They had hobbies and pet peeves and everything, and now they're just gone.' But fuck, you're not here to hear me get all philosophical. You want to know more about Terry and the tat, right? Well, all I can say is that she's got a good taste in ink. It wasn't surprising when I heard that my buddy got a request to duplicate her sleeve."_

 _Apollo almost let that last sentence slip by. His mind did a double take. "Wh-what? Someone duplicated her tattoos?"_

 _"Crazy, huh? My bud's the only tattoo artist in this city who does custom temporary tattoos. As soon as she saw the picture they showed her, she recognized my style. I guess someone liked that design but didn't have the balls to get a real tattoo. She called me up to get my permission to duplicate it. I told her the pic was a little outdated, but she just laughed and told me keep my damn mouth shut about that."_

 _"How did they get a picture?" Apollo wondered._

 _The artist scoffed. "Shit, man. It's a little thing called the Internet. Terry's not one to show off, but I'm willing to bet she at least posted_ one _picture of her sleeve." He reached up to adjust a light on his work desk. "So are we done or what? There are a few customers up front who are probably waiting for me."_

 _"Oh, right. Thanks for your help," Apollo said._

 _The young man pushed his stencil aside and stood up. "No problem, man. Hey, if you ever think about getting inked up, you know who to come to. Just please don't ask me to put a infinity sign on your wrist or some bullshit like that."_

* * *

"So that explains how someone who is _not_ Terry could still have her sleeve," Apollo explained. "And that also explains the missing banner." ' _It's all thanks to a lazy artist who didn't bother to tell her client about the new tattoo_.'

"And am I right to assume that you paid another visit to this temporary tattoo artist?" Klavier encouraged.

"I did," Apollo said. "I got confirmation about the duplicated sleeve. But the customer who ordered it chose to remain anonymous. I think that says a lot, doesn't it?" He looked over to Luna. The girl was staring forward, her brow slightly furrowed. It didn't appear that she was paying attention to the trial anymore. She looked as though she was going through a hard decision.

"It does," Klavier said with a shake of his head. "Unfortunately, Herr Forehead, it says _too_ much."

"What?"

"Think about it. The customer was anonymous. That means you cannot prove who ordered it."

Apollo's eye twitched. He was right. "But I've raised the possibility that the real killer is this anonymous customer, not Terry!"

"Unfortunately, it's only a possibility, and nothing more," Klavier replied. "We need solid evidence to prove that Terry is not the killer."

' _There was nothing solid in this case!'_ Apollo panicked. ' _As much as I would like to deny it, this case is full of holes! Full of questions! The only real solid evidence was the video, but that proved to be as solid as a fishnet! How am I going to win this case?'_ Then the answer came.

"It was me." The tiny voice was followed by a heavy silence. Everyone looked to the speaker: Luna.

"Was… was that a confession, Miss Sky?" the judge asked. He looked unsure. Everyone was. What was going on? Even Terry had uncrossed her arms and sat up; it was the first time she had moved since the start of the trial.

"Yes," Luna said.

"And… what exactly are you confessing to?"

"Everything," she said. "Everything that was mentioned. I was the one who ordered a duplicate of the sleeve, and _I was the one who shot Jacob Rhune_."

Apollo blinked. He still had no idea what was going on. "S-so it was you? In the video?"

"Yeah," Luna replied.

"Why did you do it?"

Luna looked down and tucked the vulpix in the nook of her arm. "I'm going to stay silent on that one. All you need to know is that it was me."

"Uh…" Apollo mumbled. He had run out of things to say.

"So what happens now?" Trucy whispered. "I think this is the first time someone's openly confessed without being backed into a corner. Do they just take her word for it?"

"I… maybe?" Apollo said back. "I don't know why she's done it, though. We were nowhere near getting her."

The sharp slam of the gavel caused the two of them to flinch and look towards the judge's bench. "Miss Sky, you do realize the weight that your confession carries?" the judge asked the girl. "Not only are you proving the defendant's innocence, but you are bringing the guilty verdict upon yourself."

"I'm well aware," Luna said, her face determined.

"Very well. Then based on the evidence presented today and the witness's confession, this trial is ready to come to its conclusion."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: I haven't updated in a really long time. Sorry about that. I wanted to take a break from writing.**_

 _ **Also, you are all being fooled. The vulpix plushy is the real murderer. You have been warned!**_


	12. Chapter 12

The day was still young, and the trial was already over. To be honest, Ethan hadn't really expected it to end the way that it did. Not with the confession of the witness, but with Apollo winning the case. The evidence had all been against him, and Klavier was a formidable prosecutor… even if he was a little over his head.

Ethan tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He felt the vertical shoulder holsters press against him on either side. The holsters themselves were empty; obviously firearms were not allowed inside the courthouse. Besides, people tended to act edgy around him when his handguns were visible, and for good reason. That's why he tended to wear his jacket a lot. Still, he had them for a purpose. Being a detective had its risks, and he had encountered incidents where force was needed.

But because they were empty, Ethan just felt awkward. He was one of the first to leave the courtroom after its end. His truck was waiting in the parking lot. His two firearms were tucked away in the glove compartment.

' _I'll go get them, and then head back to see if Terry needs a ride home. Daina's going to be ecstatic when she finds out,_ ' he thought cheerily as he weaved between parked cars. Eventually, he caught sight of his own vehicle a few spaces ahead. As he neared, he noticed a folded piece of paper tucked under his windshield wiper. Ethan slowed down, but then quickened his pace. What was that? A parking ticket?

"Are you shitting me?" he mumbled to himself. "C'est des conneries! I didn't violate anything!" He stopped by the truck. It wasn't a ticket.

It was a note. There was large writing on the paper, but it was folded up and couldn't be read. Ethan reached over and pulled the page out, opening it up. The message covered the entire paper, and each letter had been written over several times.

NO ONE IS INNOCENT, ETHAN.

A chill ran down the detective's spine. His arms pricked up with goose bumps. Ethan looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the gleeful face of the prankster peeking at him from behind a car. The lot was empty, save for a few people getting into their cars and pulling away. The majority of the trial's participants were still crowded in front of the courthouse.

Ethan looked back down at the paper. Then, he flipped it over. And what he saw made his blood run cold.

It was a childish drawing of two people standing under a bright yellow sun. One person, a boy, was taller than the other, a girl. This picture had been made years ago. The child who had drawn it was the tiny girl in the picture—little Sophie Tache. This was one of the drawings of his little sister's that Ethan had brought with him when he moved to LA. He kept all of them in his office, which was currently locked.

Including this one.

Ethan quickly unlocked his door and ripped the door open. He lunged for the glove compartment and yanked it open. The two guns were still there. He snatched them up and tucked them into their holsters.

Then, he took out his phone and quickly scrolled through his contacts. He stopped at one: Lewis. He was a security guard, and a good friend, who worked at Criminal Affairs.

As Ethan listened to the phone ring, he drummed his fingers against the hood of the truck. His heart was racing. Finally, he heard the familiar, "Hello?"

"Lewis, has anyone been to my office this morning?" Ethan asked hurriedly.

"Your office? Uh… no, I don't think so. Wouldn't the front desk ring you up if someone was looking for you?"

"No, I don't mean that. I mean has anyone _gone up_ to my office? Check the security cameras. It should be camera number…. Ah…" Ethan tapped his temple. "I don't… look, just look over footage for the fourth floor, west hallway. Can you do it now?"

"I… I guess? What's this about?"

"Someone's broken into my office!" Ethan said. He pulled himself into the driver's seat of the truck. "I'm headed over now. Check that footage!" He tucked the phone away and revved the engine.

* * *

Trucy waited until they were away from prying eyes and cameras before she pumped her fists in the air. "Yeah, I knew it!" she yipped. "We rock!"

Apollo couldn't seem to share her enthusiasm. Sure, he won the trial. But for some reason, it felt… wrong. He was quite sure that Luna had been the killer, but her confession spawned more questions than answers.

"Come on, Polly. The _least_ you can do is look a little bit happy! Party pooper," Trucy scolded, noticing his somber look.

"I don't know. I feel like—."

A brisk clearing of someone's throat cut him off. Both looked over to see Terry standing behind them, her arms crossed over her chest. "Listen, I, uh…" she began quietly. Then, in a rougher, more familiar voice, she said, "Yeah, thanks for… well, you know."

"No pr—."

"No problem!" Trucy chirped. Apollo's mouth pressed together tightly at being interrupted for a second time. "So how have you been?"

"Well, I finally got away from the damn cameras. Asshats make you feel more like a bug under a microscope than a celebrity," Terry grumbled. "But I'm just glad I can go home. I _can_ go now, right?" She eyed Apollo.

"Uh…" Apollo meant to agree, but Terry staring at him like that made him too nervous to think straight. It looked as though she were about to snap his neck if he uttered a single syllable to her disliking.

"Don't tell me I have more bullshit paperwork."

"No, you're good! It's over."

Terry finally lowered her arms. "Good," she sighed. Her eyes flickered to something over in the parking lot. Apollo heard the roar of an engine and the screeching of tires. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a silver truck zooming by. As it sped by, Apollo caught a split-second glimpse of Ethan inside. Then the car passed. Apollo wasn't quite sure, but he thought Ethan looked… panicked?

"Wow. Looks like someone's in a hurry," Trucy noted.

"He's probably off to tell dear sister the news," Terry guessed. "He's always eager to make her happy."

"Oh, how sweet!" Trucy cooed. "They sound so close!"

"Daina and Ethan? Yeah, they go way back." Terry glanced over her shoulder. Luckily, the cameras had not found her yet. "Anyway, I'm off before the mosquitoes catch the scent of my blood again. So, well… thanks guys." She slipped her hands in her pockets and began walking away.

Trucy gave Apollo's sleeve a sharp tug. "You could've offered her a ride home!" she hissed.

"Oh my bike?"

* * *

"He did _what_?"

"I know! Not a single peep, not even a glance! And I said 'good morning, Detective' to him all sweetly, too!" the woman sniffed.

"That's awful! So he just ran past you?" her companion gasped.

"Yeah! He went back there into the security room."

"Oh, Janice, honey, don't let it get you down! He probably didn't mean it! I mean, he's probably the only person here who bothers to remember our names! And they're right freaking here!" she reached out and straightened her nameplate on the reception desk.

"I know! And he's so cute and nice and everything! Too bad he's always hanging out with that forensics girl. _Ugh_."

"Right?" The front desk's phone rang. She picked it up. "Hello, Criminal Affairs…. Mmkay, can you hold for a moment, sir?" She pressed a button and put the phone back down. "She's such a nerd! I bet she doesn't own a single thing from Gucci."

"I know!"

* * *

"Are you sure?" Ethan demanded, glancing at the screen.

Lewis gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, Ethan. I'm sure. Look, you can see it yourself!" He tapped on the screen. "The only person who went into your room this morning was her." Below his finger was the paused security footage. It showed the kindly old janitor entering Ethan's office. "She goes in there every morning, remember? I'd hardly call that a break in."

"But…" Ethan mumbled. He wasn't quite sure what to think. It was seriously doubtful that the elderly janitor would take one of his pictures and scribble that strange note. "Okay. Thanks, Lewis."

"Sure," the guard replied absently as he pulled open a bag of chips. Ethan walked out of the room. His brow was furrowed with concern. There was no explanation of how the picture left his room. He had stopped by his office and saw no evidence of tampering on the door. Nothing in his room was different except for the missing picture.

The detective sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The only possibility he could think of was that someone who had visited his office had taken it without him noticing. Still, that didn't offer him much reassurance. The note creeped him out. But it looked like he had no choice but to attribute it to someone with a sick sense of humor.

* * *

She hummed to herself as she polished the shelf with the cleaning wipe. The vacancy of this place was clearly evident. A couple hours of cleaning and sorting, and the place still wasn't up to living standards.

Mordecai sat on the floor behind her, watching her. His mouth was parted, tongue hanging out.

"You could help, you know," Daina said playfully to the German Shepherd. He began wagging his tail, dragging it against the floor. "Well, I guess that counts. Thanks Mordy." The dog suddenly got up and scooted out of the room. In a heartbeat, Mordecai returned carrying his favorite stuffed giraffe in his mouth. He trotted up to Daina, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm busy, baby." The dog continued to stare at her with wistful eyes. "Now don't you use that on me. You know I'm no match for your puppy eyes." More staring. "Mordy, go away, you spoiled little brat!" She pushed him away gently with the side of her foot.

Mordecai let out a defeated whine and moped over to the corner with his head low. He plopped on the ground and sadly gnawed at the toy giraffe. Daina watched him in her peripheral vision as she finished the shelf and began cleaning the nightstand.

Finally, with a sigh, she dropped the wipe. "You're making me feel so evil!" she cried. She knelt down on the ground and patted her knees. "Come here, Mordy!" The dog jumped up and dashed over. He flung the giraffe into Daina's lap and began racing in circles.

Daina picked up the giraffe and waved it around. "You want it? Mordy, do you want?" The German Shepherd danced around, his tail going crazy. "Go get it!" She threw it out of the bedroom. Mordecai raced after it. Daina peeked out the door and watched him speed to where it was and snatch it up in his jaws. Then he dropped on the floor and began writhing around as though he were wrestling with the giraffe. Finally, when he had successfully "killed" his prey, he got up and trotted triumphantly over to Daina. He dropped the slimy giraffe in front of her.

Daina regarded it with a grimace. "Real nice, Mordy," she commented. Suddenly, there was loud knock on the door. Her eyes flew to it. Was that… Terry? She had told Daina that the trial would most likely end today. Joyously, she stood and hurried to the door.

It was then she felt something tug her back. Daina looked back and saw Mordecai pulling at the hem of her shirt. "Not now!" she scolded. But the German Shepherd released her and ran in front of her. He faced the door, ears pinned and teeth bared. Daina hesitated, watching the dog with concern. What was with him? If it was Terry, he should be excited.

A deep, throaty growl escaped Mordecai. Suddenly, he jumped at the door and began barking at the top of his lungs. Daina was horrified. All desire to open the door was gone. It definitely wasn't Terry. And Mordecai hardly ever barked, especially with this ferocity.

She crept closer to the door to check that the lock was in. The doorknob began rattling. Daina jumped back, a hand over her mouth. Mordecai barked more intensely, pouncing back and forth at the door. Suddenly, the rattling stopped. Then Mordecai slowly began to calm down. He turned around and pressed himself against Daina's leg. But she could only stare at the door.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: I don't believe it! Is this story back from the dead? Ahhh! It's a zim-zam-zombie!**_

 _ **But yeah, to all of my followers: I am very sorry for long gap. Honestly, I lost motivation for this story for a while, and I also started up another story. Good news, though! I will be starting this story up again!**_

 _ **I'm pretty sure Ema has the DNA Extraction Kit by Gucci.**_


	13. Chapter 13

"Ethan, are you busy right now?"

"I'll be done around 8."

"Never mind."

"What is it?"

"I'll be fine. Terry should be home soon."

"Take care, Bonnet."

Daina put her phone down and rested her chin against her knees. She sat huddled on the ground next to the bed. Mordecai snuggled against her side, his head raised and alert. She shot the door to the bedroom another paranoid look, and then laid her head back against the mattress. She was too terrified to even go anywhere near the front door. Where was Terry?

Mordecai gave Daina a reassuring nudge with his nose. She smiled and hugged him tightly. "You're the best, Mordy," she murmured into his fur. His tail thumped against her leg.

Suddenly, the dog tensed. He looked towards the door. Daina's eyes widened as she pulled away. What was it this time?

But instead, Mordecai's tail continued to wag as he stood up and bound out the room. Daina stood up and hurried after him. He trotted up to the door, his mouth open and his tongue flapping. He reached the door and began pawing at it.

There was a light tap on the door. Then another. They came in a peculiar rhythm; sometimes there was a pause, and sometimes there were multiple taps in quick succession. Daina immediately recognized it. It was Morse code. Someone was tapping 'hello.' There was only one person she knew who would do that.

"Terry?" she asked cautiously. There was a moment of silence.

"Oh my _god_ , Daina! Open the damn door! I'm starving and I _really_ need a nap!" Terry snapped from the other side. Relieved, Daina threw the door open. They stared at each other for a moment. Then, Terry stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her sister.

"Ugh, sorry for being a huge bitch," she apologized. "It's been a rough few days. I'm so happy to see you, Dinky." Mordecai batted at Terry's leg. "You too, Mordy."

"I'm so glad to see you too!" Daina said, her voice shaky. Terry pulled away, holding her sister by the shoulders. "Whoa. You okay?"

"Terry, there was someone here this morning!" Daina confessed, the words spilling out of her in a hurry. She pulled Terry in and shut the door. "They tried getting in, and Mordy started freaking out! He never does that!" She was visibly shaking. Terry led her over to the futon and sat her down.

"Look, don't worry about it, okay? It was probably one of those idiot reporters trying to see if I was here. I bet Mordy hates them as much as I do."

With that explanation, Daina felt slightly better. She looked down as Mordecai jumped on the futon beside her and rested his head in her lap. "Well I guess I should go make you something, right?"

"Nah, first thing's first," Terry said as she began walking away. "I'm gonna go to my room and pass out. See you in a few hours."

* * *

Ethan gripped his knees tightly as he listened to the sleep-inducing droning of his superiors. His back was killing him, and the creaky plastic chair wasn't helping. God, meetings were the _worst_! He couldn't even remember what it was about. Some sort of new policy, or law, or maybe it was about the case that had just come to a close… he stopped caring a long time ago. And if that wasn't great enough, the meeting was being held in the evening. On a Friday. He hadn't realized that Satan had planned this thing.

After a billion years (even though the clock only showed 20 minutes) passed, the meeting was finally over. Ethan sprang up, grabbed his jacket from the chair, and hurried out of the room as he flung it around himself. He found his truck in the parking garage and started it up. As he navigated towards the road, he began thinking to himself. These past few days had been quite empty since the end of Terry's trial. Maybe he should head out tonight and actually do something.

As he drove, he had to admit that it was actually a very peaceful night. Traffic was light, and the speakers in his truck were pumping. He tapped the steering wheel in time with the music.

Suddenly, his headlights caught someone on the side of the road. Well, well, well. Ethan slowed down and pulled up next to the person. He rolled down his window and leaned over the passenger side. "How much, mon chérie?" he joked before breaking down into snickers.

Klavier gave him an unimpressed glare. "Very funny, Tache," he muttered.

Ethan peered at the motorcycle next to him. "Having bike problems?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? The weather guys are saying there's going to be a thunderstorm tonight." He glanced up in the windshield. "Judging by the lack of stars, I say it's almost here." He opened his door and stepped out. Pulling down the truck's tailgate, he said, "Here, just pop that thing in the back and I'll take you home." Klavier looked as though he was about to decline again, but common sense got the better of him. They heaved the motorcycle into the bed of the truck.

"Thanks," Klavier said quietly as he climbed into the passenger seat.

"Don't even mention it," Ethan replied, turning the key in the ignition. "You really think I was going to drive away and leave you back there? I'm not Hilter. Uh…" He gave Klavier a sideways glance. "My bad. That was in poor taste."

Klavier shrugged. "It's no big deal." He gave the dashboard a curious glance as the engine started and music started blaring through the speakers again. "What on Earth is that?"

"Are you serious?" Ethan said incredulously as he turned back onto the road. "You've never heard of Machiavelli?" Klavier didn't answer. "2Pac?"

"Can't say that I have," Klavier admitted. "I don't really listen to this kind of…"

"Poetry," Ethan finished.

 _I cut yo face, this ain't no motherfuckin' movie; then, we watch the other two die slow._

"Uhh… Sure."

For a while, they drove in silence. Small drops of rain began to patter onto the windshield. The wipers squeaked across the glass. As Ethan slowed down at a red light, he was suddenly reminded of a similar situation with a different person who had sat beside him. The same question he had asked that person popped into his mind. He leaned an arm against the window and rested his other hand at the top of the wheel.

"So," he began, breaking the silence. "I've been wondering something."

Klavier crossed his arms, still looking forward. "Pray tell."

"This fascination of yours, it didn't happen to start after a certain Gavineers concert, did it? And speaking of which, how thick do you have to be to name a band after yourself?"

"Fascination? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know," Ethan suggested innocently. "The one over a certain dark-haired maiden. If you're still clueless, touch your cheek."

Klavier shot him a look. "You're… you're talking about Daina?"

"Yeah, no shit I'm talking about Daina. This red light is taking forever, by the way," Ethan mumbled.

"Okay, first of all," Klavier began hotly, "I'm not _fascinated_ by her. Why do you care? Are you her…?"

"Am I her…? No, I'm not. I'm just an old and dear friend, looking out for her best interests." He gave Klavier a side-glance. "She said she went to one of your concerts."

"Yeah, I know. I met her afterwards. She definitely caught my eye."

"Aw, how sweet. You know, I think Daina's a big fan of you. She acts flustered whenever you're mentioned around her," Ethan mentioned, shooting Klavier another glance as the light turned green. He accelerated forward.

"Oh, that? That might have som—Well, I mean… I, uh… I might have taken her home afterwards."

Suddenly, the truck came to a shuddering halt. Both occupants jerked forward. Ethan twisted his whole body to face Klavier. " _You did what_?" he cried. Klavier stared back, still a little shaken up by the sudden stop. "Dude, that's not cool! She's like a sister to me! Why are you telling me things like that?"

"You asked!"

A car behind them honked loudly. Ethan faced the wheel and began driving again. To himself, he muttered, "Well at least that's probably a good sign."

"Hm?"

Ethan was quiet for a while as he contemplated whether or not to continue talking. Finally, he said, "Did she ever tell you about Jake?"

"Who?"

"Jake. Jacob Rhune. Ex-boyfriend. Also, the dead guy in that last case," Ethan added nonchalantly.

"Oh, uh… Her sister mentioned that he cheated on her," Klavier recalled from the first day of the trial.

Ethan scoffed. "Believe me, I wish that a cheater was all he was." The rain was starting to get a little heavier, so the windshield wipers quickened their pace. "The fucker was emotionally abusive. Textbook manipulation. Daina never admitted it, but he did a number on her self-esteem. It probably hasn't recovered even now." Ethan's hand tightened on the wheel. "I was still living in Bordeaux; in France. We would keep in touch over Skype and phone calls, but I'd always hear about him. 'Jake wants me to do this, and Jake told me that. Jake says we can't have calls that last over five minutes.' Really?" Ethan's brow furrowed.

"It really hurt me, seeing her like that. She'd always make up excuses for him, or change herself for him. You could call her an idiot, but we were just teenagers back then. And plus, one day while I was on the phone, I overheard the real kicker. They were arguing, and he tells her: _I'm the best thing that will ever happen to you. No one else would ever care about you. You should be grateful you have me_. Since the start, he's dangled that over her head until she actually started to believe it. When I heard that, I wanted to fly straight to the States and give him one."

Ethan let out a deep sigh. "But that's a thing of the past. Good riddance. But I really worry about her now. There's little I can do, and I hate knowing that. After all, I owe her my life." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Klavier perk up.

"Really?" Klavier said. "Why is that?"

"If it weren't for her, I would be living a fate worse than death," Ethan explained. "It's a long story."

"This has been a pretty long car ride."

Ethan smirked. "Fine," he agreed. "But you're going to have to know a bit about me, first."

"Oh, boo."

"Up yours. Okay, where do I start?" Ethan thought for a while. "I was born in Bordeaux. My mother was an angel; my father broke her wings.

"Until I was born, she was his emotional and physical punching bag. Then, he unleashed his drunken wrath onto the both of us. I can't tell you what kind of man punches his three-year-old son in the head for dropping a plate, or for crying too loud. For the first five years of my life, I was exposed to that. I guess that kind of treatment got ingrained into my mind. When I was five, we moved to LA. Nothing in the household changed. But when I started going to public school…" Ethan shook his head and grimaced.

"I became an absolute bully. Beating up kids, taking their things, calling them names. People really hated me and stayed away from me, and that just made things worse. Then, one day, that all changed. Imagine this: I've got a kid pinned against the wall. I'm shouting at him and hitting the poor bastard over and over again. Suddenly, I feel a pair of hands yank me away. I turn around to confront whoever it is, and it turns out to be this little girl with long black hair. She's shouting at me and gives me a good shove. I have half a mind to knock her over myself. Then she yells, 'you're a monster! A monster!' And that's when it hits me. I had said the same thing to my father once.

"It's a pretty intense revelation for a nine-year-old to have. Realizing that you've become the thing that you hated so much. I wanted to change, but I knew it was too late. That's when Daina did something I will never forget: she became my first friend.

"From then on, my life went uphill. Daina helped me make other friends. Plus, I started spending more time with my mother. While I had others, she only had me. I taught myself to play the piano. She was a huge fan of John McLaughlin, so learned his songs for her. That seemed to brighten the black hole that my father left. Later, when I was 14, my mother got pregnant with a second child. She had finally gotten hold of some courage, and decided that she wasn't going to subject this one to that monster. She left him and we went back to Bordeaux. It broke Daina's heart, but we kept it touch. We lived with my mother's parents, and I got a second little sister. You know, I try to be the best brother to Sophie, but I can't help but wonder what I would be like to her if Daina never showed up. That's why I owe her everything."

Ethan reached behind the wheel and turned the engine off. Klaiver looked around with surprise. "We're here already?"

"We've been here for the past five minutes, crétin."

"… Oh."

"It's cool. I figured if we're going to sit here, I might as well have the engine off."

Klavier reached for the door handle, but hesitated. "If you don't mind me asking, where is your father now?"

"In the ground," Ethan answered. "Last I heard he wrapped his car around a tree."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Ethan opened his door and stepped out. "Look, this is all in the past. Now let's get your bike off of my truck. And next time it breaks down, you're going to tell me _your_ life's story."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: This appears to be the start of a beautiful, budding bromance. How wonderbar.**_

 _ **Also, we now know that Ethan is not literally Hitler.**_


	14. Chapter 14

Morning traffic had hardly just started, and she already knew it was going to be a slow, awful day. The crowded bus was at a standstill amid a sea of other stalled vehicles; some idiot jerk wad was pressing up against her equipment bag (and probably crushing her Snackoos!); her latest investigation on the body in the alleyway was STILL devoid of any solid clues, and, to top it all off, she hadn't had her coffee yet!

Finally, the bus rumbled and began to set off as the lights turned green. Vehicles raced across the intersection, desperately trying not to get caught by the yellow light. Ema's grip tightened on the overhead bar as she felt herself sway from the acceleration. It was times like this when she missed her crappy little car. Sure, she'd still have to sit in traffic, but at least she'd finally have space for herself instead of feeling like a human packing peanut.

By the time she reached the police department, the sun had climbed high into the sky. Ema headed towards the building, longing for that cup of coffee. She pushed through the door and walked in. It was then that the atmosphere completely changed.

In an instant, a flurry of officers was around her. She felt someone grab her arm and start leading her away. At that moment, nothing went through her mind except for bewilderment at what the hell was going on.

"Er…" was all that escaped her lips as she was pulled. In a moment, she found herself sitting in one of the department's interrogation rooms. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a group of officers speaking in hushed voices at the door. Then, all but two left the room and shut the door behind them.

Ema glared at the two. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" she demanded.

"Something's come up. We tried contacting you this morning, but we couldn't reach you," one answered.

"Yeah, that's because I took the bus," Ema said, rolling her eyes. "My car is at the shop right now. Why were you trying to find me?"

"There's—." Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Both officers looked at it. "Who is it?"

"Me. Let me in," the person on the other side answered. The officers hesitated. "Are we supposed to let anyone in?" one mumbled to the other.

"It's Detective Tache," Ema recognized. "Just open the door." They obeyed. Immediately, Ethan rushed in.

"Are you all right, Ema?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the table next to her. She gave him a strange look. "I'm fine, Tache," she answered. "What's happened? What am I doing in here?" The overly concerned look on his face wasn't exactly making her comfortable.

"They found another body early this morning. Same as the others," Ethan began uneasily.

So another young woman had been found. But if that was the case, then why was she being detained in this… wait, it couldn't be. Ema scowled.

"No freaking way," she muttered. "Do you really think that I—?"

"We're not arresting you, Ema," Ethan clarified. "We're trying to protect you."

"Protect me?"

"You remember how each of this killer's victims also has a note? Well, so did this one. _Ema Skye_. That was all that was written on it."

Ema froze at the mention of her name. The killer had specifically pointed her out? Goosebumps rose on her arms as uncomfortable memories of her childhood raced through her mind. But she quickly pushed them down. "This killer usually doesn't leave any indicators about their next victim," Ema pointed out.

"True, but maybe it's a warning to the police. We've been trying to track them down for a while; this may be a threat to try and shake us off. Especially since you're part of the force."

"What about the new body?" Ema argued. "Maybe there are more clues!"

"I'm in charge of the investigation, Mademoiselle," Ethan assured. Ema stared. "You?"

"Yes, me," he said with a crooked grin. "I'm not your little underling anymore, Skye." His grin dropped. "Just… take care of yourself, okay? You'll have to stay in here a little while longer, at least until the department settles down from its state of frenzy. This is the first time in a long time a direct threat has been made towards the force. Once the fire dies down, and we're able to pull in suspects, you should be able move about a bit more freely." He got up. "For now, just hang tight in here. If you need me, well…" He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped it with a finger. "… And I'll be here."

He made his way to the door. "Oh, right," he said as he reached inside his jacket and pulled something out. "A little pick-me-up to start your day." Ethan threw something onto the table. A bag of Snackoos landed on the table.

Ema glanced down at it. "You just broke half of them," she grumbled. Ethan chuckled.

"You're welcome, chérie," he called out as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

"Y-your magic…?" Daina repeated weakly.

"Magic panties!" Trucy finished cheerily as she held the pair up. It was a bright shade of blue with pink polka dots. Daina regarded them with raised eyebrows and a confused smile. They were sitting amidst the clutter in the Wright Anything Agency's back room. Mordecai was sprawled on the floor, gnawing desperately at a plate of fake spaghetti.

"So what exactly do you with your… magic… panties?"

"I hide things in them!" Trucy answered. Daina bit her tongue as she fought down an immature urge to giggle. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, Trucy reached into them and pulled something out. It was a huge, rolled-up poster. "Yup!" she said. Daina blinked, shocked. What the hell? There was no way she could have hidden something like that in those panties!

"See? I told you they were magic!" Trucy unrolled the poster. It was a very flashy picture of her in her magician's clothes. Beside her, Mr. Hat was tipping the silk hat on his head. "And look! Daddy made this promotional poster for me! I put it up whenever I have a show."

"That's amazing!" Daina marveled. "The poster _and_ the trick. How did you…? Oh, what am I saying? You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope!" Trucy said as she threw the poster aside. It quickly disappeared into the mess. "I'd be breaking the first rule of magic! That'd be like… like… breaking the first rule of dancing! Right, Daina?"

"First rule of dancing?" Daina repeated. "I don't think there are any rules. But if I had to make one up right now… I'd probably say it was 'have fun.'"

"Oh, I think that's the second rule of magic!" Trucy replied thoughtfully. From the floor, Mordecai suddenly perked his ears up and turned his eyes towards the front of the building. Then, he popped up and trotted out of the room. Daina watched him. "I wonder what he heard?" she wondered.

Trucy shrugged. "I bet Polly walked in with takeout," she guessed.

"Uh oh," Daina chuckled. "He better watch out. Mordy's the sweetest dog alive, but he turns into an absolute devil around food. Or even imitations of it." She nudged the slobber-covered spaghetti with her foot.

* * *

It had been quite a while since he had set foot in here, but everything looked exactly the same. Down to the last pile of junk. But despite its horrid appearance, Klavier had to admit that this dingy little place felt _really_ homey.

"I should have known you'd show up sooner or later," a voice mused. It was coming from a doorway that led to what he assumed was an office.

"Then you know why I'm here, Herr Wright," he replied.

"Only one reason I know of," Phoenix replied. "Don't be a stranger, now. Come on in." Klavier stepped into the office. It was the first time he had actually walked into Phoenix's office. Immediately, he noticed the faded old movie poster on the wall. Next to it were shelves of record books, also dusty with age.

Phoenix was sitting behind the long desk, staring at the screen of his laptop. When Klavier walked in, Phoenix's eyes flicked over. He shut the laptop and leaned back in his chair, offering a cordial smile. "What can I help you with today?"

"Yesterday you went to go see Luna Sky at the Detention Center, didn't you?" the young man said.

"I did," Phoenix admitted. "But why are you so interested, Prosecutor? That case is over."

Klavier regarded him with a stern look. "You know as well as I do that there's more to that entire case than what transpired in court."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"What did Luna tell you?" Klavier demanded.

Phoenix was silent as he stared at Klavier with an almost amused look. Then, he raised an arm and rested his head on his hand. "She told me quite a bit. I know you're looking for answers, and I've got them. They just don't make sense yet."

Suddenly, the clicking of nails on the tile floor announced something's entrance. Both men looked towards the door as the German Shepherd trotted in. Tail wagging, he headed straight to Klavier and rested his chin on the man's knee. Klavier rubbed the dog's head. "Yours, Herr Wright?"

"Afraid not," Phoenix said. "I've already got my hands full with my little girl. He belongs to a friend who's looking after Trucy right now."

"Hm." It didn't take long for Klavier to return back to the topic at hand. "I wish you'd tell me what Luna said to you," he insisted. "I'd go find out for myself, but she's refusing to see anyone right now."

"You and I are enemies, remember?" Phoenix replied jokingly.

"But we both want the truth. I get the feeling that there's a darker underbelly to that case that none of us are aware of yet." Mordecai looked inquiringly up at Klavier, who absent-mindedly gave him another pat on the head.

"You're on the right track," Phoenix noted. "Very well. I'll tell you what she said to me when I asked her why she did it."

* * *

 _"I can't tell you."_

 _"Fine, then let me guess."_

 _"How is that even going to work?"_

 _"Just tell me if I'm right. Now, let's think about the circumstances of the murder itself. Everything seems… off. You have no connection with the victim or Terry Everett. Yet you included both of them in the murder. You know what that means?"_

 _"Enlighten me, Mr. Wright."_

 _"You were instructed by someone to kill Jacob Rhune and frame Terry for it. And that someone knew both Jacob and Terry. Is that right, Ms. Sky?"_

 _"… Yes."_

 _"But it's strange how this person would get you to do it, when an assassin would be the more logical choice. They deliberately chose you. They were trying to make a statement. By getting an ordinary person to go out and commit murder, they're trying to show us what they're capable of. Am I getting closer?"_

 _"Mr. Wright, I don't want to play this game anymore."_

 _"Have a look at this."_

 _"…! This is…"_

 _"A family picture. This is your mother and little brother. Somebody threatened harm to them, didn't they? And they were very convincing. That's why you did it. You're trying to protect them."_

 _"Do you want to know why I confessed so quickly, Mr. Wright? So I could get away from him as quickly as possible. He doesn't care about my family or me anymore now that the case is over. The murder meant nothing to him. It was only a means to an end. But you want to know something? I'm the safe one, sitting on this side of the glass. You best distance yourself from this whole incident, and from that girl. The Devil's coming after her."_

* * *

"That doesn't make any sense."

"That's what I told you before," Phoenix said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"But that last thing she said… something about the girl…" Just then, Mordecai buried his nose into Klavier's pocket. His snout reemerged, with a set of keys on a heart-shaped key ring in his teeth. The German Shepherd quickly pulled away and raced out of the room. Klavier cried out in surprise and bolted after the dog.

' _I was wondering that myself, until I realized whom Luna was talking about,_ ' Phoenix thought grimly to himself. ' _The one that links Jacob and Terry… and this entire thing together._ '

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Updates are and will continue to be incredibly slow. Classes are keeping me super busy, and I'm often left with too little energy to work on chapters. Sorry! Despite that, I will try my hardest to keep updating.**_

 _ **Mom's spaghetti.**_


	15. Chapter 15

"Stop! Bad dog!" It was no use. There was no stopping the German Shepherd as he gleefully bounced around the place, holding the keys hostage in his jaws. Whenever Klavier managed to get close to the dog, the mischievous little mutt would quickly dance out of his reach. Finally, Klavier gave up. He stood back and watched Mordecai happily weave through the maze of junk, knocking things over with his hyperactive tail.

"Fine, you win, you little gör!" he admitted with a sigh. Mordecai stared back at him. Suddenly, he darted past Klavier and disappeared into a different room. Letting out a sharp exhale, Klavier followed the dog. Mordecai moved quickly, but Klavier managed to catch a glimpse of his tail as it disappeared through a doorway. He heard the keys jingle and someone saying, "Mordy, what's this?" Someone appeared in the doorway, almost knocking into Klavier. Both stepped back. Then, he realized it was her.

Daina looked back with wide eyes, apparently equally as surprised. "Oh," she said, her voice high in pitch. "I, uh… I didn't expect to see you here."

"Nor I you," Klavier replied. Daina's gaze quickly switched to the floor. "Uh—."

"Hi, Mr. Gavin!" Trucy chirped, popping out from behind Daina. "Was that you chasing Mordy?"

"Hello to you too, Fräulein. The pesky little thing grabbed my keys and ran." He spied the key ring in Daina's hand. "Ah…"

Daina looked down at the heart-shaped ring. "Oh, so this is…" She offered it to him. As Klavier took it, their hands brushed. Daina's hand shot back as though she had been burned. Her eyes glanced up at him for a split second, and she gave him a weak smile before walking past him. "I guess I'll see you next week, Trucy. Come on, Mordy." The German Shepherd trotted to her side.

The suddenness of her departure startled him. Klavier could only watch as the two of them hurried away. Beside him, Trucy crossed her arms, her brow furrowing.

"You're not going to chase after her or anything?" she demanded. Klavier looked down at her.

"What?"

"I've never seen her act so defensive around anyone like that. Which… you know, isn't really helping you out." Trucy beamed. "She's really pretty, isn't she? Is that why you like her?"

How did she…? "Is it really that obvious?"

Trucy giggled as she tapped her temple. "I could spot it right away. Nothing's quicker than a magician's eye!" Suddenly, her face changed as a thought crossed her mind. "You know, Mr. Gavin, it takes around 35 minutes on foot to get from here to her apartment. Just saying."

Klavier raised his eyebrows. He couldn't quite believe what this little girl was telling him. "I'll keep that in mind," he noted. "See you around, Fräulein."

"Good luck, Mr. Gavin!" Trucy called out.

* * *

That was way too close. She let out a defeated sigh as she crossed the parking lot. She hated to admit it, but seeing him really hurt. It just reminded Daina where her place was.

A wet nose touched her hand. Daina looked down and saw a pair of deep brown eyes gazing back up at her. With a smile on her face, she reached down and ruffled Mordecai's ears. "Ready to head home, boy?" The dog licked her hand in response. Then, his head suddenly turned and his ears perked forward.

Daina heard it too. There was a rumbling sound that grew louder and louder. As she turned around, she saw someone on a motorcycle ride up next to her. Even with the rider's face concealed in a helmet, she knew who it was. Her heart skipped a beat.

Mordecai pranced up to the motorcycle. His tail swung side to side as he rested his chin on the rider's knee. "He really likes you," Daina remarked.

Klavier pulled the helmet off and rested it on the seat in front of him. Mordecai reached over and began madly sniffing at the helmet. "That, or he shares my love of bikes." He rubbed the fur behind the dog's ears. "What's it going to be, Kumpel? Me or the hog?" Mordecai's eyes drooped lazily.

Daina laughed softly. "All right, Mordy, that's enough. Sorry if he's holding you up."

"Not at all. I stopped for you."

Wait… what was that supposed to mean? Maybe she was reading too deep into it.

"A half hour walk sounds quite tedious," Klavier continued.

"Actually, Mordy really likes it."

"But what about you?"

Those words took her by surprise. She had never really realized it until now, but that was the first time in a long time someone had asked her something like that. Without waiting for a response, Klavier held the helmet out to her. Daina stared wordlessly at it. Then, her brief moment of vulnerability vanished. Her mask returned.

"I'm fine," she said, trying to sound cheery. "Thanks."

Klavier was steadfast. "I'm not moving," he insisted with an easy smile.

"What about Mordy?"

"I'll drive slow so he can run alongside us. It'll give him a chance to stretch his legs." Mordecai looked over his shoulder with eyes that seemed to be begging. It looked like the decision had been made.

"Okay," Daina agreed, taking the helmet and fitting it over her head. As she climbed onto the motorcycle behind Klavier, she said, "But drive really slow, all right?"

"Is this your first time on a motorcycle?" he asked.

"It is," Daina admitted. "Terry used to ride one but… yeah, just drive slowly."

Mordecai barked, as though trying to say, _"Just go already!"_

* * *

When the security guard told her who had come to visit her, Ema knew exactly why he was here. Or, at least she thought she knew. It was weird seeing him from the other side of the table. Now she knew how suspects must've felt when she interviewed them.

Apollo gave her a friendly smile. She wasn't really in the mood to return it. "You're here about the new murder, aren't you?" she guessed. "Well, you're wasting your time. Ethan's the one in charge of the investigation, not me. I'm just holed up in here until the guy who wants to kill me decides not to."

"There's a lot of security in here," Apollo noted.

"The killer's manage to evade us this long. We're not underestimating him."

"Good call," Apollo agreed. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "So you think I'm here to take the case? As far as I'm aware, there hasn't been a named suspect."

Ema shrugged. "Well, you only ever come here when you're helping a client."

"But tell me more about this murder."

"I can't. It's strictly confidential."

Apollo's face dropped. "Ema…"

"Relax, I'm joking!" she said, playfully throwing her hands up. "But to be honest, I'm not entirely sure of the details myself. All I know are the tidbits of information that manage to reach me in here. It seems like our friendly neighborhood serial killer struck again. You're familiar with the details of the victims, right?"

"Not really," Apollo admitted sheepishly. "I was caught up in that last case, remember?"

"When you talk to Ethan, he'll fill you in. He's very acquainted with this whole ordeal."

Her response disappointed Apollo. The thought that he couldn't get his information yet just made him want to sigh his heart out. But he decided against pressing Ema. She appeared to be uncomfortable with the topic of the serial killer. "How much does Detective Tache know? He was busy with the Rhune case."

"Ethan's kept a very close eye on these cases, regardless of whether he's worked on them or not," Ema said. Apollo couldn't help but detect a glow of pride coming from the woman. That was odd. Ema's coworkers usually always rubbed her the wrong way.

She seemed to read Apollo's thoughts through the look on his face. "It's not like that," she retorted irately. "It's true, I do think highly of Ethan. But he's more like a little brother to me."

' _Little brother? He's about the same age as you, if not older._ '

"After all, I was in charge of supervising him during his first investigation," Ema continued. "It was immediately clear to me that he and I were going to get along fine." Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "That's right!" she exclaimed. "That first case we worked on together… That was the first victim!"

Apollo inhaled so sharply that he fell into a coughing fit. Ema stared wide-eyed at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just… you know… just choked on some spit," he said, his voice growing quieter and quieter as he realized how pathetic he sounded. Then, in a tense, booming voice, he asked, "Wait, so this investigation was of this serial killer's first victim?"

Ema winced. "Yikes, I can see why some of the guys at the precinct call you 'the Megaphone.' And yes, we were looking into the death of the first victim. The investigation was… interesting, to say the least."

* * *

 _Ema looked up at the building with a less-than-delighted look. "This is the place?" she asked skeptically. "Looks friendly enough."_

 _"Hmm," Ethan murmured as he shut the engine off and leaned forward to peer up through the windshield. "Yup. Shady doesn't even begin to describe it," he agreed. "Tell you what, Détective Skye. You stay in the car, and I'll head in and meet with the contacts."_

 _Ema shot Ethan a glare. "Absolutely not!" she refused. "I'm responsible for you, remember? This place is clearly dangerous."_

 _"I'll be fine. It's your safety I'm more concerned about. Besides, I doubt the contacts mean any harm. The sister of one of them was just murdered. I'm sure they'll want to help us catch the killer."_

 _"But I can't—," Ema protested._

 _Ethan flashed her an innocent smile. "Pretty please, Détective?" he asked._

 _Ema huffed. "Fine," she said. "But be very,_ very _careful."_

 _"Merci. Here." He handed her the keys to the truck. "Be sure to lock the doors after I get out, and keep them locked." Ethan climbed out and slammed the door behind him. He turned around and gave Ema a thumbs up before heading towards the building. Ema pressed the lock button on the keys and nervously watched Ethan disappear. A few tense moments passed. Ema glanced around the truck. The place was deserted, but the sun was starting to set. The area, with its lack of street lamps, began to grow dark._

 _She glanced at the rear view window and spotted a pair of dark figures walking past on the other side of the street. One of the figures motioned towards the truck, and both of them stopped. Ema shrank a little into her seat as she watched them. Then, to her relief, they continued walking._

 _With a little sigh, Ema rested her head back and returned her attention back to the building. It had been a while. What exactly was going on in there? She wondered if she should head in and check._

 _Suddenly a gunshot cracked the air. Ema jumped in her seat, her heart racing. She spotted a figure stumbling out of the building. It was Ethan. He headed for the truck, but his movements seemed awkward._

 _It was then Ema realized that he was holding his stomach. Immediately, she unlocked the truck and burst out. "What happened?" she cried. Ethan held out a hand and braced himself against the hood of the truck. With an exhausted grunt, he sank and sat against the truck's front wheel. "Call an ambulance," he said. "Tell them we've got two wounded inside."_

 _"Wounded? What happened?" Ema glanced fearfully at the building. "Have the contacts fled?"_

 _"I doubt it," Ethan said, his voice strained. "One of them has a grade three concussion, and the other has a bullet lodged in his femur." He shifted, wincing. "I regret having to do that."_

 _Ema crouched down and pulled Ethan's hand away from his body. The clothes over his stomach were soaked in red. There was a tear in his shirt where the knife had penetrated. "Oh my god," she gasped, pressing his hand back over the wound and placing her own over his. "This is bad."_

 _"No, not really. It just really hurts," Ethan reassured._

 _"Ethan, what happened?"_

 _"They just got scared and panicked. I asked about Camila Rivera and the last few weeks before her death. They said they suspected that someone was following her. Then, they said one last thing before they attacked me."_

 _"What?"_

 _"El Diablo was coming after her."_

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Yes, I'm afraid updates will continue to be this slow. I apologize to all those who have been patiently waiting for new chapters.**_

 _ **In other news, I started up playing Dual Destinies for the first time this week. And I have to say, some of the voices are nauseating. Oh well.**_


	16. Chapter 16

The ride had been much too short, in his opinion. He looked up at the apartment building. A strong sense of déjà vu swept over him as he remembered staring up at the same building. It had been during his investigation to prove Terry Everett's guilt.

The motorcycle under him rocked, jarring Klavier back to his senses. He looked behind him. Daina had just gotten off and was calling Mordecai over. The German Shepherd trotted towards them, looking exhausted but happy. Klavier glanced back at Daina. He had so much he wanted to say, yet his mouth refused to move. Funny. Standing on a stage in front of thousands of spectators barely ever fazed him, yet he could not find it within him to be straightforward with this one girl.

"Well… Thanks for the ride," she said, looking back at him. "Mordy and I should probably head in."

' _What are you waiting for? Tell her! You let her go once; are you really going to let it happen again? Just say what you really want. Tell her already! Say it right… now!_ '

"Okay." He wanted to kick himself.

Daina lowered her eyes and gave a little nod. She turned away and started walking towards the building. Mordecai lagged a little behind her, but slowed to a stop as he looked over at Klavier. Suddenly, the dog shot forward and caught up with Daina. He grabbed and gently tugged at the hem of her shirt. When Daina looked down at him, he turned his head back to the motorcycle. It was then Klavier realized. It was now or never.

"Daina." He swung a leg over the motorcycle and stood up. "I—."

She seemed to catch on immediately. "You're making a mistake," Daina interrupted quickly, her eyes glued to some spot on the ground. "I don't think you should continue."

He froze. He had been so close! What happened? Was she really not interested in him? Then he remembered what Tache had told him that night. Until now, he had never fully grasped how scarred she was. ' _Rhune really did a number on her, didn't he?'_

"A mistake? Is that how you see it?" He stepped towards her. She was still staring at the ground. "Liebling, do you remember the night that we met?"

"That… night…?" Daina repeated weakly. "How could I forget? But I shouldn't have gotten too close. I'm… I'm not…" Her voice grew fainter and fainter. "I'm not worth that kind of love." He took her hands. She looked up, surprised.

Klavier smiled gently at her. "Whoever told you that was wrong."

To his shock, Daina pulled a hand up to her mouth to stifle her sobs. What had he done this time?

"I'm sorry I left so suddenly," she confessed, brushing at her cheeks. "I was just scared."

"Of what?"

"When I saw you on stage, and later that night, I… fell in love. Me, and just about every other woman who laid eyes on you. But by some accident, I was the one who managed to catch your attention," she confessed. "And I was so scared that if I waited for you to wake up, I'd find out you didn't feel the same way."

"And why wouldn't I?" Klavier asked softly.

"Because you're you," Daina said. "And I-I'm just me." His hand touched her cheek. Klavier's face was incredibly close. She barely had time to close her eyes before their lips met. It wasn't until they parted that Klavier realized Mordecai's tail was beating furiously against his leg.

He noticed how red her face was. It was adorable. "You know, I rather like 'just you.'" Daina was still speechless. "If you turn any redder, Leibling, your head might explode."

Daina laughed. It sounded warm and genuine, but something about it made Klavier think that she hadn't laughed like that in a long time.

"I can't believe the dreamy rock star prosecutor wants to get pinned down by a relationship," Daina mocked playfully. "I can see the scathing headlines already."

Klavier grinned and wrapped his arms around the small of her back. "Well, _technically_ the band was just a hobby of mine. I'm just a simple prosecutor, at your service." He leaned down for another kiss.

A loud voice shouted out before they could meet. "Boo! Get a room, you two!" Both of them looked up to see Terry leaning out of an open window.

"How are you doing, Fräulein?" Klavier called out.

"Fine, especially since you didn't land me in prison," Terry replied snarkily. "Daina, when you guys are done reenacting a cheesy chick flick, remember to get Mordecai to wipe his paws on the mat before coming in, 'kay?" With that, she shut the window and disappeared into the apartment. Klavier chuckled. "Oh, I can tell we're all going to get along just fine." He let Daina go and plucked up the helmet from his motorcycle. "Sorry to cut things short, but I've got to get back to the office. What's your weekend looking like?"

Daina shrugged, a sly look on her face. "I don't know," she mused. "I guess I _could_ cross a few things off my busy schedule for you."

"You're too kind," Klavier replied. "How about this: Saturday night. I'll stop by, and we can go to a little place on the edge of the city. It's got a nice beachside view and everything. What do you say?"

"Sounds nice. I'll see you then."

The engine revved. "Bye, Daina." Klaiver caught sight of Mordecai watching him from Daina's side. He gave the German Shepherd a little smile before turning around and riding away. That dog was one hell of a wingman.

* * *

Phoenix Wright wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought of Apollo and Trucy getting involved in this whole serial killer ordeal, but it wasn't like he would be able to stop them. At least their investigation took place at the police department with Ema. He could rest a little easier knowing that they were in perhaps the safest place in the city.

With a heavy sigh, Phoenix leaned back in his chair. This entire investigation was wearing him out, and the threat he had received a few days ago still made his skin crawl. But he had to keep going. Being a defense attorney not only meant believing in his client, but bringing justice to the wrongdoer. When he had won the Rivera case, he felt like there had been no justice delivered. The murderer was still out there, killing more and more young women.

But why? And what for? Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose and he tried to recall Ema's description of the killer's patterns. They left notes with each victim. By leaving notes, the killer was trying to do something. Who were those messages for? What was he trying to broadcast to the world?

He couldn't think of any ideas. He couldn't see any method to the madness. Perhaps sitting around and thinking wasn't going to get him anywhere. Maybe he should spring into action like Apollo and Trucy had.

Speaking of those two, Phoenix wondered what kind of information they had dug up by now. It was time to stop by the police department.

The trip was a short one. It seemed that the time it took to travel there was shorter and shorter. Or maybe that was because he had come here countless times. The police department looked the same as always. Well, except for the few new flyers on the bulletin board. Phoenix walked into the building and headed straight towards the Criminal Affairs department.

The moment he stepped in, the head detective noticed him from his desk. He gave Phoenix a knowing look. "Detective Skye is currently being held under high security. I'm afraid you won't be able to speak with her until you're given proper clearance."

What? "Did something happen?"

"We've received a threat that directly targeted her. It's from that creepy, note-leaving killer and—." The head detective stopped abruptly. "I don't know if I should be telling you this," he mumbled under his breath.

"That's fine, detective," Phoenix assured. "Can I speak to the one in charge of the current investigation?"

"That would be Detective Tache." Tache? Ethan Tache? The detective that had worked on Apollo's most recent case? "As for where you can find him, I'm afraid I don't have the slightest clue. All I know is that he isn't in his office. Ask the ladies at the front desk. Lord knows they watch him like hawks."

"Thanks." Phoenix turned around and headed back to the entrance of the police department. He made his way to the receptionist's desk. The two women behind the desks were chatting away like a pair of squirrels. Phoenix stood there for a moment, quietly waiting for the two to finish their conversation. Their chattering showed no signs of slowing. Phoenix cleared his throat.

Immediately, the two women focused on him. For a moment, Phoenix wished that he had never interrupted their talk. He could feel the steeliness of their gaze, and could practically imagine their brains churning out a million judgments per second. "How can we help you, handsome?" one of them asked in a silky voice.

"Uh," he began, "I'm looking for Detective Tache."

One of the women began giggling. The other shot her a fiery look. "Shh, Mandy!" she hissed.

"He's downstairs," the giggly woman answered.

"Downstairs?" They were on the ground floor already. So the police department had a basement floor?

"Yeah, it's just a recreational area… _and a gym_."

"Mmhmm. He goes down regularly." The receptionist gave a dreamy sigh.

 _Yeesh_. When would this weird conversation be over? "So can I go down and see him?"

"Well, _I guess_. But he's probably busy, if you know what I mean."

"Uh… well, this is kind of important."

Mandy gave a huff and turned back to the other woman. "Do you think they have cameras down in the gym? Maybe we can get Lewis to show us some footage!" Looks like they were done talking to him. That was a very, very good thing. Phoenix hurried away from the creepy women. He missed the stoic, straight-to-the-point lady that used to work there.

The elevators didn't work without keycards, but Phoenix managed to catch a ride with an officer who also happened to be going down into the basement. The moment he stepped out of the elevator, he realized he had no idea where to go.

"Um, where's the gym?" he called out to the officer. The policeman turned around.

"First time, huh? Good for you for getting started. Down that way; it's the bright green door."

Thanks to that lucrative color, the door to the gym was pretty easy to find. Phoenix pushed the door open. He heard a series of loud thuds and low grunts. The gym room was dim and empty.

Ethan was in a corner with his back to the door. He didn't seem to hear the door as he pounded away at a punching bag. Phoenix stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching Ethan with a concerned look. Something about the detective's body language, the way he struck at the punching bag with such intensity, told him that something was wrong.

There was a quick pause as Ethan caught his breath, and then he resumed his barrage of punches. The poor punching bag barely had a chance to swing back. All of a sudden, there was a loud rip. The bag seemed to explode under Ethan's fist. The detective jerked back as a burst of sand hit his face. He turned to the ground and spat. A steady stream of sand leaked from the bag onto the floor. When Ethan looked up, he noticed Phoenix.

"Well this is embarrassing," he said. "How can I help you, Monsieur Wright?"

"Sorry to bother you," Phoenix said. "I just wanted to know how your investigation's going."

"I should have known you would take an interest. You were the attorney for the first victim, right?" Ethan brushed the sand out of his stubble. "The investigation's fine. I'm sure we're going to come up with promising leads." The rattling of chains rang in Phoenix's ears as he watched the four Psyche-Locks fasten themselves to Ethan. He had expected this.

"You seem like something's troubling you."

"Why would you say that?"

Phoenix shrugged. "I'm just good at reading people." He fingered the magatama in his pocket.

Ethan let out a breathy chuckle. "The only thing that's bothering me is the bag. Heathrow—er, the guy in charge of equipment down here—is going to be pissed." Phoenix remained silent as he pondered. "Honestly, Monsieur Wright, there's nothing you need to be concerned about. We're working as hard as we can, and Ema is in safe hands."

' _He's keeping something from me,'_ Phoenix thought. ' _I think something came up in the investigation, something that scared him. He's sealing the truth up tight with those Psyche-Locks, but I don't have anything to confront him with yet.'_

Smiling pleasantly, Phoenix said, "That's good to hear. Good luck, detective." He opened the door and stepped out of the gym. As the door closed behind him, Phoenix caught a glimpse of Ethan holding his head in a hand.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: The first part has so much cheese it's like a Velveeta factory overflowed in here or something.**_

 _ **Also, updates for this story will continue to be on a long on-and-off kind of schedule. Sorry about that. It's just that there are times where I lose interest in this story, and then decide to pick it back up again. I am going to try and see this story through to the end, though (however long it may take). For those readers who have read from the first chapter up to here, thanks for sticking by. Love ya.**_


	17. Chapter 17

Everything was so familiar. From the blazing sun overhead to the heavy equipment strapped onto her back, it all felt normal. It was just another day.

The entire village had been destroyed during the attack, but in the end they managed to capture the area and push the enemy back. She leaned against a crumbled brick wall that had once been a small hut. Beads of sweat were gathering at her hairline, and the sunglasses on her face were sliding down her slick nose.

"It's like a goddamned oven in this place," Terry mumbled to her companion, pushing her glasses up. "And somebody set the dial to 'Hell.'"

Sammy chuckled as he rested his rifle against his shoulder. "Just you wait. Pretty soon, you're going to be as dark as me. Daina won't be able to tell us apart next time."

"I don't think so," Terry said as she adjusted her heavily utility belt. "I'll fry to a crisp first. She's going to be wondering how you came home with a cooked lobster." They shared a good laugh. It felt so normal. Yet at the same time, she had a looming doubt in the back of her head. Something was wrong. Something was going to be wrong.

"Four months in this hellhole," Sammy said with a tired sigh. "I'm just glad it's going to be over soon."

"Soon? Did we get orders to pull back?"

Sammy turned to face her. He had a kind, sad smile on his worn face. Extending his arms, he handed Terry his rifle. "Sorry, T-bone." Terry stared with confusion at the rifle before reluctantly taking it.

Suddenly there was a loud boom. The explosion sounded close. Alarmed shouts and the rattling of gunfire followed it. Terry felt the ground underneath her shake. "Sammy?"

"I know you didn't want me to die. It's all right. Just take care of yourself, okay?" The sounds of warfare were crawling closer. Amidst the gunfire was the mad baying of dogs. A deep, sick feeling began to grow from the bottom of Terry's stomach. It felt as though something terrible was approaching. Something was coming for them, and she had to stop it.

"Bye, T-bone."

Terry sprang forward, trying to grab Sammy. But she couldn't reach him. It was like they were on conveyor belts moving the opposite directions. "Sammy! No!" Something whistled by. Sammy jerked awkwardly as a bullet struck him in the chest, and another through his neck. Then he collapsed, falling towards the earth in slow motion. No matter how fast Terry ran, his figure seemed to shrink more and more into the horizon. "Sammy! _Sammy!_ " Gunfire and shrill barks. Terry felt herself being lifted by some unseen force and thrown down onto her side. The moment she hit the ground, her whole body flinched as she opened her eyes.

Sammy was gone. The hot sun was gone. The dry village was gone. The gunfire and the shouts were gone. But the barking was still there.

Terry lay there with bleary eyes, wondering what was going on and where she was. As the fog of her nightmare drifted away, she began to realize that one part of her dream—the barking—was louder than ever.

Then there was a scream. Terry sat up in a flash, her heart racing. She flung the covers off and scrambled down to the safe under her nightstand. Her hands felt like lead as they pecked at the number pad. When the safe finally opened, she grabbed the handgun and the magazine and raced out of her room. Mordecai's frantic barks were coming from the front door, but Terry headed straight for Daina's room.

The room was dark, but Terry could see that the place was a mess. The covers had all been flung from the bed, and the wooden vanity had been tipped over. Glass shards peppered the floor. Terry spotted her sister huddled in a corner, arms over her head as she cried.

"Daina? What happened? Are you okay?" Terry asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"He was here!" Daina sobbed. "He was right here! He grabbed me! I-I was so…"

Goosebumps crawled across Terry's skin. "Just stay here, okay? I'm going to check out the rest of the place. Call out if you need me." She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her. As she passed by each room, she turned the lights on. There didn't seem to be anyone there.

Then, she realized that Mordecai was still barking wildly. He sounded oddly muffled. Terry hurried to the source of the sound and found herself looking at the closed front door. She could hear the scrabbling of Mordecai's claws on the door. Terry reached out to take the doorknob, but heard the creaking of a door behind her.

Suddenly, a shriek ripped through the air. "No, please! Get away from me! Terry!"

Terry grew sick with fear. She ripped the front door open. Mordecai shot past her as a dark blur. She whirled around and followed him, gripping the gun tightly with both hands.

The door to Daina's room was ajar. Inside, Terry could hear the sound of frantic and wild struggling. Then, a cold, eerie voice spoke out.

" _We were meant to be together_."

Mordecai flew into the room. Terry barged in after him. She could only see a split second snapshot of a figure grabbing Daina by the wrists. As she raised her gun, the figure flung something large at her. She found herself tangled in the covers. Terry pushed wildly at the blanket as she fought the panicked urge to fire blindly.

Something stormed by her. Finally, Terry managed to throw the covers off. Daina was still in the room, but the intruder and Mordecai were not. She reached out and touched Daina's arm. "Daina—!"

She was cut off by a pained human yell that came from outside. Both women looked towards the sound. Suddenly, there was a shrill yelp. Terry's eyes widened. The two of them ran out. The front door had been thrown open, and there was someone lying in the hallway. As they drew closer, Terry's blood suddenly ran cold. Daina let out a horrified gasp and rushed forward.

"Daina, wait!"

"Oh my god, no! Mordy!" She fell onto her knees beside the still dog. Terry spotted a few drops of blood leading down the hall. She hurried past Mordecai and Daina and rounded the corner. The intruder was nowhere to be seen. He had escaped. And worse, there was Mordecai. Rage coursed through her body.

"If I ever see you again, I'll kill you!" she shouted to the emptiness. "You hear me? I'll fucking kill you!"

Daina was sobbing quietly. "Terry, I th-think he's dying," she stammered tearfully. Terry walked back and knelt beside the dog. Daina balled up her sleeve in her palm and was pressing it against the wound in his neck. Mordecai let out a strangled whimper.

"I'm going to call the police," Terry said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Keep pressure on that wound. Just like that." She rose and headed back into the apartment. Behind her, she heard Daina say, "You're a good boy, Mordy. A good boy."

* * *

He followed the trail of flashing lights and screaming sirens. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white, and his foot pushed the pedal down nearly to its limit. When he reached the destination, he parked his truck next to scattered mess of police cars and jumped out.

"Officer!" Ethan called out as he stormed over. "What happened here?"

"We got a call here about a quarter past three," the policeman answered. "Someone broke into a unit and assaulted one of the occupants."

"Was there any evidence collected?"

"The perp didn't leave anything useful," the officer admitted sheepishly. "But we're planning to question the two occupants."

"No," Ethan ordered. "Give them some time first. They're probably in a lot of shock." Without another word, he rushed past the officer and into the apartment building. On his way, he passed by numerous police officers escorting neighboring tenants back into their rooms and announcing that there was nothing to see.

He was met with a concerning puddle of blood that lay in front of the apartment door. Ethan stepped around it and walked in. There were a few officers in there. Some were scouring the rooms for clues, one stood over Daina as she huddled in a chair, and another was talking to Terry.

Ethan grabbed a chair and dragged it next to Daina. As he sat down, the girl looked at him with red, frightened eyes. The detective gave her a reassuring smile. "You've been very brave, Bonnet." Daina looked away and pulled the blanket tighter around her body.

"Are you hurt?" Ethan asked gently.

"No," Daina whispered. "But Mordy… H-he stabbed Mordy." Ethan remembered the pool of blood from outside. "They put him in the ambulance but… I'm so scared, Ethan."

"You're safe now. Mordecai's going to be just fine. He's a tough boy." Ethan scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. "And your sister? Is she okay?"

"Yes," Daina answered. "She and Mordy saved me from that man."

So the intruder had been male. And he was strong enough to fight off and stab a fully-grown German Shepherd. Ethan wanted to know more about the intruder. He had a dark feeling that this incident and his case were linked.

"Bonnet, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I'm going to ask you about that man tonight. Did you get a good look at his face?"

Daina shook her head. "No, it was dark and he took me by surprise. I couldn't see any features on his face, so I think it was covered." She shivered. "At the time I didn't even think he was a human."

Her response was disappointing, but he couldn't find her at fault. Ethan exhaled slowly as he leaned back in his chair. "Have they found anything?" he asked quietly to the officer who stood nearby.

"Nothing yet, sir." Ethan knew that if they hadn't found anything by now, there wasn't anything to be found. The best chance they had was to scour the neighborhood for the man, though that was likely to bear no fruit.

"Ethan." The detective turned back to Daina. She was unraveling her blanket. Something shiny was crumpled in her hand. "Before he was hurt, Mordy bit the man. I noticed a bit of blood and fabric on his teeth." She opened her palm to reveal a bloodstained napkin inside of a Ziploc bag.

Ethan stared wide-eyed at the bag before gingerly taking it. "This is… quite the turn of luck," he admitted with a smile. "Merci, Bonnet. This will help tremendously." He lifted the flap of his jacket to tuck the piece of evidence in an inner pocket. As he was doing this, he heard a voice behind him.

"Daina?"

Daina stood up, the blanket falling around her feet. Ethan felt wind ruffle his hair as someone rushed past him and caught Daina in a tight hug. Before Ethan could tell who it was, he caught a whiff of familiar cologne. What was _he_ doing here?

"Are you okay?" Klavier asked.

Daina huddled against him. "I'm… I'm fine now."

"What are you doing?" Ethan blurted out without thinking. Klavier looked at him.

"Terry called me. Look, detective, now isn't really the time for that big brother-routine."

"What? No, I didn't mean… Just keep an eye on her, okay?" Ethan trailed off. He whirled around and hurried away. He had to get back to the police department and send the blood sample to the lab as soon as possible. He needed to know whom the blood belonged to. Deep down, the detective felt as though he already knew the answer to that. And if he was right, then Klavier was making a huge mistake.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: A little late, but Happy New Year!**_

 _ **Also, at last, a little action! And next chapter, Phoenix'll be doing quite a bit of sleuthing. Then maybe this story will start feeling more like Ace Attorney-related again.**_


	18. Chapter 18

' _This is getting completely out of control_ ,' he thought as he hurried through the police department. ' _I've been through some crazy cases, but I've never had one get this dangerous before. I knew I should've dug more during the Rivera trial._ ' Almost out of reflex, Phoenix could imagine someone, maybe Apollo or Trucy, reassuring him that it was not his fault. But he still felt an ounce of responsibility for leaving the case open-ended. Now he was busy trying to redeem himself. There was so much he had to figure out. He needed to start with Detective Tache's Psyche-locks.

So that was what he was working on now. Who better to ask about Ethan than Ema? From what Phoenix remembered, Ema was under heavy protection in one of the interrogation rooms. But as he approached, a strange sight caused him to slow down. Before, the place had been filled with security. Now it was deserted.

"Excuse me," Phoenix called out to a guard. "Where is Detective Skye?"

"Down at the labs," the guard answered gruffly.

"At the labs? What about her protection?"

The guard stared suspiciously at Phoenix. "You sure know a lot, and you sure are asking a lot of questions. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Phoenix felt his hands grow clammy. Man, there was always something scary about being asked something by a police officer. "Detective Skye is a friend of mine. Just ask her if you don't believe me," he answered plainly. "I wanted to see if she was okay."

The guard blinked a few times, then shrugged and fell into a more relaxed pose. Either he was quick to believe, or wasn't paid enough to care. "Sure. She's still being carefully watched, but Ethan Tache told the chief detective that there was no threat towards her. Plus, she wanted to get back to work as soon as possible."

Ethan called off Ema's security? Right after the attack at the Everett residence? Phoenix wondered what had gone through the detective's mind. "Thanks," he said before leaving. He headed straight for the crime labs. Now he absolutely wanted answers from Ethan. The Psyche-locks were becoming more and more fascinating.

But the first challenge was finding Ema. Phoenix never liked trying to maneuver through the laboratory. It was like a maze of hallways, blinding fluorescent lights, slippery gray floors, and endless doors. And one of Phoenix's fears was accidentally finding himself in the morgue.

He sidestepped as a group of three forensic workers passed him, deep in conversation. He caught a few words as they walked by.

"—soon as possible. Have the results come in yet?"

"The sample analysis on the bloodstain was complete, but they haven't found a match from the database yet. Skye's working on it."

Phoenix stopped in his tracks. He whirled around, opening his mouth and raising a hand in preparation to asking about Skye's whereabouts. But on second thought, maybe not. The workers hadn't noticed him, and he didn't really need more people questioning his presence. It sounded like Ema was wherever they did DNA tests. Then it dawned onto him. That could be anywhere! This place had multiple DNA testing rooms! Phoenix let out an exasperated sigh. Well, standing around and anguishing wasn't going to help him.

It seemed that luck was on his side. As Phoenix marched a few steps forward, the door beside him flew open. Arms flying, he wobbled back as the door stopped inches from his nose. As he regained his composure, he saw someone rush out from behind the door. Bingo! Ema Skye!

The detective didn't seem to notice him. Her head was down. Her focus was on the open manila folder in her hands.

"Ema!" Phoenix burst out.

Ema Skye looked up with a surprised look. She shut the folder. "Mr. Wright? What are you doing here? I'm kinda busy at the moment."

"I need to talk to you," Phoenix confessed. "It's urgent."

"So is this. What do you want?"

"You heard about last night, right?" Phoenix asked. Ema gave a curt nod. "Listen. That attack, Ethan's current case, the Rivera case, even Terry's trial. I think it's all related."

"You think they're all caused by the same person?" Ema asked, a clear tone of doubt in her voice.

"I'm not sure. But I think Detective Tache knows. He's hiding something." As soon as the words left his mouth, Phoenix realized his poorly worded mistake. He made it sound like he was accusing Ethan. Ema was sure to fire back.

But to his surprise, Ema looked sad. With a sigh, she reached up and swept her hair back. "I think you're right," she said quietly. With a jerk of her head, she nodded towards the room she came from. "Let's talk in there." They entered the testing room and found themselves surrounded by large, complex equipment and racks of fluid-filled test tubes. Ema flicked the light on.

"I shouldn't be showing you this, but you need to see," she said as she flipped the folder open. "We got a blood sample from the attack that most definitely came from the intruder. Ethan said he wanted the results as soon as they came up, but… I don't know how he'll react when he sees them."

Phoenix's head raced as he moved closer to Ema and the test results. He looked down at the sheet of paper, directly at the name that Ema was pointing to.

"I don't… I don't understand," he whispered.

* * *

The smell, sights, and sounds of Hickfield Clinic brought a rush of memories into Phoenix's mind. It had been a while since he'd visited the place, and he was thankful for that.

After a brief conversation with one of the nurses, Phoenix made his way to a certain patient's room. When he found her door, he gave a couple of knocks before letting himself in. As he stepped in, he caught her staring at him with an expectant look. Then, her face changed and she looked down. It seemed as though she were expecting someone else.

"Hey there, Daina. How are you holding up?" Phoenix began.

"I'm okay," Daina answered. Her words sounded recited. Phoenix wondered how much fear the girl was bottling in. "I'm not hurt, but I came in to get checked just in case. Terry insisted."

"Where's your sister, anyway?"

"With Mordy."

"I'm sorry to hear what happened," Phoenix offered as he took a seat by the bed. "If you're not ready to go back there, you're always welcome to stay with Trucy and me."

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Wright," Daina thanked quietly. "Is there something you want to ask me?"

Her directness caught Phoenix by surprise. "I suppose if it's not any trouble…"

"It's fine, Mr. Wright." She looked up at him. "If there's any way I can help, let me know."

Daina and Ethan knew each other pretty well. There was a chance she'd be able to provide some insight into all of this too. Phoenix pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and opened it up. "What can you tell me about this person?" he asked as he presented the blood DNA results to her.

As soon as Daina's eyes locked onto the name, the blood drained from her face. She turned her face and pushed the paper away. Psyche-lock after Psyche-lock latched themselves onto her heart.

' _This just keeps getting better and better_ ,' Phoenix thought grimly. "This is the match found from the blood sample. This is the man whose blood was found at your place. What can you tell me about him?"

"You need to leave," Daina whispered, "right now."

"Please, Daina," Phoenix pleaded. "Unless I get to the bottom of this, a lot of people are going to get hurt. Especially the people closest to us." The girl didn't respond. Her head was still bowed and her hands clutched tightly at the blanket. Phoenix stood up, folding the paper back up. "All right," he said. "If you won't help me, then I'll get my answers from Ethan." Daina whipped her head up and stared desperately at him.

"No, it's not what you think!" she cried. "It's not his fault!"

"It all started with the Rivera case," Phoenix stated firmly. "His first real case while under the supervision of Detective Ema Skye. Then followed a string of murders, all of which he has followed closely. Then Terry Everett is accused of murder and brought to trial. And who was the lead detective for that case? Then a similar murder by this mysterious serial killer, and he spends an unusual amount of resources having Ema locked down. Then, right after his orders, you get attacked. All of these events have one common denominator: Ethan Tache. There's no denying it, Daina."

To his surprise, each and every one of her Pysche-locks shattered. He hadn't expected to get through to her that quickly. But somehow, his accusations against Ethan had touched a nerve. Perhaps there was more history between them than he had thought.

"What you're saying, Mr Wright," Daina replied, her voice slow and deliberate, "is _not_ the truth." Her entire demeanor changed. Every trace of fear seemed to vanish. "Sit down, Mr. Wright. If you want to know who the man on that paper is, I'll tell you."

* * *

In one hand was the bouquet of flowers. Purple, her favorite color. Wrapped in colorful tissue paper and tied together by a shimmery ribbon. His other hand held the phone up to his ear. He was standing outside the clinic; inside, for some reason, had terrible reception.

"It was a close call, but he's going to pull through," the voice on the other end was telling him. "He's a tough boy. Be sure to tell her."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate the good news," Klavier said. "And I'm glad he's okay. I've grown quite fond of that dog."

"Well if you're going to continue seeing my sister, it's good that you two get along. But don't let me keep you. I bet you're getting ready to sweep her off her feet, aren't you? I swear, if you've got flowers with you, I'm going to barf."

"Better get a bucket ready," Klavier mused.

"All right, Romeo. Take care of her." The call ended. As he slipped the phone into his pocket, he felt it buzz. It was a text message. The message was long, so the lock screen only showed the first few words. As soon as he saw the "FUCK YOU FUCK YOUFUCKY OU FU…" he put the phone away with a sigh. It seemed like yet another jealous person had found his number. They were almost as annoying as the fans that tried to contact him.

Finding her room wasn't hard; it wasn't the first time he had visited her. He reached down and turned the doorknob. As he swung the door open, he found himself staring at an unexpected face.

"Herr Wright, what a surprise to see you here," Klavier greeted. He noticed the folded paper clutched in the attorney's hand.

"Flowers," Phoeinix replied.

"I'm sorry?"

"Flowers." He gestured at the ones Klavier held. "That's very sweet of you. I should have thought of that."

"Hmm," Klavier mumbled, his eyes wandering over Phoenix's shoulder. He spotted Daina sitting on the edge of her bed. She returned his gaze with a warm smile. Phoenix looked back, then at Klavier again. "Oh, are you two…?"

"Yes, Herr Wright," Klavier responded without looking away.

"Oh." Phoenix awkwardly shuffled past Klavier. "Let me get out of the way then." Klavier chuckled quietly as he heard the door shut behind him.

"You didn't have to," Daina said as she stood up. Klavier went to her and placed the flowers in her hands. "You're right," he agreed. "I didn't have to. But I did." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Stop that," Daina said giddily, clutching the flowers to her chest. "Did you hear from Terry?"

"I did," Klavier said. "The little pup's going to make it." Daina's eyes lit up.

"That's the best thing I've heard all day!"

"Really? You and Herr Wright must have talked about some somber things, then." When he said that, Daina looked down at the flowers and didn't say a word. Klavier felt his pocket vibrate. And again. Maybe the reception wasn't all that poor after all.

"I understand the police are still looking through your place," Klavier began as he took a step away and looked at his phone. "I've spoken with your sister. I'm more than willing to lend my…" He trailed off as he read the words on the screen. The first message, the one that he had received outside the clinic, was so long that he had to scroll to see the end of that one message. Then came the most recent two, both from the same unknown sender.

"She's not yours."

"I don't like you. You're going to die."

"Did something come up?" Daina asked. Klavier snapped back to his senses. He realized he had been staring intently at the phone. He quickly replaced his frown with a relaxed grin.

"No, it's fine."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: The plot thickens, like a sauce after you add in corn starch. But don't put too much, or else it becomes a gelatinous disaster. I speak from experience.**_


	19. Chapter 19

The memory was still fresh, seared into his mind's eye like a mark from a branding iron. Track marks. _Track marks_. That had been the first thing he had noticed before the man pulled his sleeve down. Little pinpricked scars on the arm made by syringes that were filled with god-knows-what.

Ethan peered out the window of his truck. The engine was off. He was parked about a block away from the crime scene where the latest deceased woman was found. He should've left the car five minutes ago to reexamine the crime scene. Yet here he was, still in the truck. He remembered the track marks. They were on the man that had nonchalantly stood next to him by the front of the police department.

 _While he had been on the phone with another investigator, Ethan found himself wandering away from his office and out the front of the police department. Perhaps that was his subconscious telling him to go out and get some fresh air. The investigation on the serial killer was stressing him out._

 _Once the phone call ended, Ethan slipped the phone into his pocket and stared at the sky. The clouds were crossing overhead at a sluggishly slow pace. The world around him slowly began to grow brighter as the sun reemerged from behind a small cloud._

 _Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone appear beside him, leaning against the bulletin board. It was another coworker who had stepped out for a smoke break. Ethan ignored him as he pulled out his phone, pretending to be preoccupied. Then the worst happened: the coworker struck up small talk._

 _"How goes the investigation, Detective?" Great, always the investigation. Why couldn't people talk about other things? The weather. Last night's NBA match (though Ethan didn't care much about either teams)? The new seafood restaurant that opened a week ago? No, it was always 'hey, how's the examination of a dead person going?'_

 _"Same as ever," Ethan answered unenthusiastically. To be honest, they had actually found new leads. The blood sample that Daina had given him after the attack was vital. But he didn't really want to talk about it to this… somebody._

 _The man left the bulletin board and walked closer. Ethan flashed him an odd look, then glanced back down at his phone. The man ignored him until they were standing side-by-side. Finally, Ethan looked up at the man. He didn't look like anyone he had met before. Then again, he didn't know every single person who worked at the police department._

 _The man was staring up at the sky. "Nice day. But I think the clouds are starting to set in." Something caught Ethan's eye. As he lowered his gaze to the man's arm, he saw them. Track marks._

 _Without taking his eyes from the clouds, the man gently tugged his sleeve lower. "I find staring quite rude."_

 _Ethan broke his gaze away from the man. He looked quite familiar, but where… No._

 _"It's been a long time," the man said, as though reading the detective's mind._

 _"I should have known…" Ethan muttered._

 _"In a way, I think you did," the man replied cooly. "Is that why you were so reluctant to talk about your investigation? Something about it making you uneasy?"_

 _"If that's the case, aren't you supposed to be in hiding?" Ethan asked, his heart beginning to race. What was he doing? He was right in front of the police department! Not to mention he had his own guns! His feet were glued to the spot._

 _"There's no point in hiding myself from you anymore, Ethan," the man replied. "You have my blood. I admit I was a little careless. Guess I got too excited. I was so_ close _."_

 _YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER. Ethan wanted to scream out. YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER, YOU FUCKING MONSTER. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't make a sound. When he managed to turn his head, the man was gone._

 _That man… Now that Ethan thought about it, he looked like someone he knew. Someone with bronze hair._

 _Everything dimmed. Ethan looked up as a large cloud passed over the sun._

With a blink, he broke out of his trance. Ethan watched the cars fly by on the street next to him. Then he opened the truck door and stepped out. A group of laughing teenagers passed him. Ethan dug his hands into his pockets and pressed the holsters against his sides as he headed down the block. There was only one police car parked in front of it today. Some of the yellow tape had gotten loose and were billowing lazily in the wind.

As he approached the crime scene, blue and red caught his eye. Ethan turned his head and slowed when he saw them. Exhaustion was replaced with irritation.

"There's been no arrest," Ethan stated, "meaning you have no defendant with regards to this incident. You have no authority being here."

* * *

The detective looked less than pleased to see either of them. He almost looked like a completely different man than the one Phoenix remembered helping him during the Rivera case. The stress was certainly getting to him. Now was the time to undo those Psyche-Locks. He was more than prepared.

"That may be true," Phoenix replied lightly, "but I don't like leaving any of my cases unsolved."

"Neither do I," Apollo chimed in.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ethan spat, looking away. "Do I have to call an officer over to escort you away?"

"Terry Everett's trial and Phoenix's Rivera case all those years ago," Apollo said. "They're both linked. This entire mess is linked. You knew that." As Apollo spoke, Phoenix saw the Psyche-Locks reappear. There were so many. What was Ethan hiding?

"Don't be ridiculous," Ethan said. "The serial killer murdered women by cutting their throats. Jacob Rhune was shot by Luna in the woods. They have nothing in common."

"Yes, I spoke with Luna Sky before they sent her to prison," Phoenix recalled. "She said something quite peculiar. She warned me about someone, said the Devil was coming after them. You've followed the cases of these murdered women quite closely. I imagine you've heard something like that before." He had thrown that last sentence in just for a dramatic effect, but to his relief, Ethan's eyes widened. Oh good, so that was true.

One of the Psyche-Locks broke. They were on the right track.

Ethan's stern look returned. "So what? People say strange things when they're backed into a corner. Many start making biblical references."

"I don't think so," Phoenix countered. "Something's bothering you, isn't it, Detective?"

"Of course!" Ethan blurted out. "People have died! I'm not exactly happy about that! And you keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong! You're a defense lawyer! Not an officer! This is not your job!"

Apollo gave Phoenix a nervous glance, but Phoenix ignored him. He wasn't going to back down. Those Psyche-Locks were going to get broken right here, right now. But with each passing second, the task seemed more and more impossible. Ethan was retreating into a shell. Phoenix was running out of ways to get past his locks. So much for being more than prepared.

"Daina," Apollo noted quietly. Both Ethan and Phoenix looked at him. Apollo returned his mentor's gaze. "The serial killings, Terry's false conviction, the attack at the apartment… You told me all these cases had one common denominator—Ethan. But they have another: Daina."

"She has nothing to do with—."

"You said it yourself, Tache," Apollo interrupted. "You said you owed 'Mademoiselle Everett' a favor. Terry even recognized you when I mentioned your name in front of her. You've known Daina for a while, haven't you?"

There was a change in the detective's eyes. As Apollo threw out his accusations, Phoenix noticed how Ethan seemed to grow calmer. Another Psyche-Lock shattered. Could it be that Ethan wanted them to break? Did he, subconsciously, want to reveal his secret? Maybe doing so would help him.

"We were friends as children, yes," Ethan admitted.

"Very good friends, I can tell," Phoenix remarked. "She really cares about you. She threw away all her fears in order to protect you."

"What do you mean? Did you go talk to her?"

"I'm sorry, but yes. I turned to her because I knew that she would know you better than anyone. I was starting to suspect you."

"… Me?" Another lock broke.

"Ema showed me the results of the blood test." One more broke. "I saw the name on the paper. I confronted her about it." Two more. "That's when I realized that there was one more common denominator. The biggest one of all. That name on the paper. Allan Tache."

The final lock broke. The chains vanished. Ethan pulled his hands from his pockets and let them drop to his sides. He looked tired, defeated. There was a sad smile on his face. "Yes," he said. "Allan Tache. My half-brother."

* * *

"The animal clinic isn't far from here, maybe a five minute drive this direction," Klavier said, pointing. "With traffic it might be a little more."

"Or a lot more," Daina said, eyeing the nonmoving line of cars. "I think you forgot to take into account the after-work traffic." It was evening. Daina had finally been released from the hospital.

"I think you're right," Klavier agreed. He suddenly held an arm out. "What do you say to a 15 minute walk, then?"

"Why not?" Daina replied with a chuckle as she took his arm.

As they walked, Klavier noticed how Daina seemed to act a little too cheery. She was trying to cover something up. His mind went back to when he had first entered her hospital room. Phoenix Wright had been there.

He debated for a while whether he should bring it up. But curiosity eventually got the better of him. "What was he there for?" he asked, trying to be casual.

"Who?"

"Wright. The man in blue who was there before me. Why was he there?"

"Oh…" Daina grew quiet. She leaned on him a little. "He just asked me about the incident and how Mordy was doing."

"Was that it?"

"What's this about? Are you afraid we're having a secret relationship?" She smiled teasingly up at him.

"I wouldn't expect you to downgrade that low," Klavier joked back. Then, in a more serious tone, he said, "It just seems like something is bothering you."

"Well, things haven't been exactly good for me in the past few days," Daina said softly.

"I've noticed." After a few more seconds of silence, Klavier said, "You know, that weekend thing's still available if you're still up for it."

"Really? After all this?"

"Well I figure you need something to keep your mind off of what happened."

To his surprise, Daina laughed. "Isn't this story a little familiar?" she mused. "Something awful happens to me, and I turn to a handsome rock star to keep my spirits up."

"Hmm." Klavier pulled his arm out and wrapped it around her waist. "Maybe this story will end the same way?"

Daina whacked him playfully. "Stop it!"

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Wow, the last time this story was updated was JANUARY? Damn, son.**_

 _ **Well, to be honest, I'm starting this story back up because I finished Dual Destinies a little over a week ago. And guess what? I want to start another story. But I gotta finish this one first.**_

 _ **This story's being picked up and dropped like that over-abused phone your one friend has. You know the one.**_


	20. Chapter 20

**TRIGGER WARNING:** **This chapter has a part in it that contains attempted sexual assault. If this makes you uncomfortable, PLEASE skip this chapter.**

 **You will only be missing a little bit of backstory. Here's all you need to know to progress (spoilers for the text that is literally right below) : Ethan and Allan are half-brothers who share the same father. They are Daina were friends as kids. Allan became fixated on Daina and, one day, tries to get her to like him back by assaulting her. Why? Because Allan is a psychopath. But Ethan came to the rescue and was like, "Nuh-uh, I ain't having that." They haven't seen Allan since.**

* * *

 _When the teacher introduced her class to the new student, Ethan couldn't quite understand why the boy seemed to share his bronze hair and blue eyes. He couldn't quite understand why the face underneath the teacher's arm looked so much like his own. He was only in fifth grade, after all._

 _A few students noticed. Ethan caught them making a few quick glances towards him, then back at the new kid. When the teacher was finished with the introduction, she seated the kid at the edge of the class, in the seat next to the cubbies. Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan saw the boy staring at him. He risked a glance back. When their eyes met, the boy flashed him a grin. Ethan returned with a confused smile. For some reason, HE felt more like the new student._

 _For the rest of the class, he looked forward. But he could barely understand what the teacher was saying. His mind was swimming. Finally, their lunch break began. The fifth, fourth, and third graders had their lunches at the same time (the second, first, and kindergarten students had lunch in the prior hour). In the cafeteria, there were tables dedicated to each grade, and all students were only supposed to sit with their grade. But as he entered the cafeteria with his class, his eyes drifted over to the third graders' table. Even though it was styled in a different way every day, her long black hair was how Ethan was able to spot Daina each time._

 _When the usual opportune moment presented itself, Ethan slipped away from his class before they took their seats and headed over to the third grade table. Once again, he was able to evade the detection of the hall monitors. When Daina noticed him, she scooted to the edge of her seat to give him room. Ethan sat down next to her. The little girl reached into the lunchbox and pulled out a cookie covered in saran wrap._

 _"I snuck an extra one for you when Mom wasn't looking," she said mischievously. Ethan laughed. He reached down for his lunchbox to pay her back, but suddenly realized he had left it back in the classroom. He must have forgotten it while he had been so anxious to go to the cafeteria and talk to her._

 _"You forgot it?" Daina said. She peered back into her box. "Do you want to share my sandwich?"_

 _"No, keep it for yourself," Ethan assured. "I really need to talk to you about something."_

 _"What?" Daina asked as she pulled the crust off of her sandwich._

 _"There's a new boy in my class," Ethan said. Then, he recalled the boy's introduction. "He said his name is Allan."_

 _"Oh. That's cool, I guess," Daina said._

 _"No, but that's not it," Ethan continued urgently. "This kid, he looks EXACTLY like me. Well, not really 'exactly,' but he looked a lot like me. Even some of the others noticed."_

 _"Really?" Still holding the sandwich up against her mouth, Daina leaned back to peer at the fifth grade table. "Which one is he? Is he…? Oh!" Daina's eyes lit up. "Ethan, he has your hair!"_

 _"Shhh!" Ethan hissed. "I know. Isn't that weird?"_

 _"He's like your brother."_

 _"Well I'm an only child," Ethan pointed out. "And he doesn't have an accent like mine."_

 _Daina tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Are people born with accents?"_

 _"I think so?"_

 _"We should say hi to him during recess!" Daina suggested. Ethan realized that wasn't such a bad idea. Aside from Daina, he didn't really have any friends. He had already made a bad reputation for himself with the kids who already knew him. Maybe this new kid was a chance to turn over a new leaf and start over._

 _"Terry's friend came over yesterday," Daina spoke up, breaking through Ethan's thoughts. "She brought her dog over. It's a little maltipoo. It was soooo cute!"_

 _For the rest of their lunch break, Daina and Ethan talked like normal. After lunch, Ethan snuck back with his class as they entered their classroom for two more tedious hours of class. During those two hours, Ethan couldn't help but sneak side-glances at the other kid._

 _Then came recess. Everyone stood up and rushed for the door. Ethan hung back to shove his notebook back into his backpack. Suddenly, there was a voice behind him._

 _"You're Ethan?" It was the new kid. The one that looked like him._

 _Ethan turned around. "Yeah," he answered. "You're Allan."_

 _"Yeah." Allan tilted his head. His eyes never wavered as they studied Ethan's face. "You look a lot like me," he noted. "I guess it makes sense."_

 _"Makes sense? How?"_

 _"We have the same last name," Allan answered. "I saw your name on the class roster when I was standing with the teacher. Ethan Tache. My name is Allan Tache."_

 _Never in Ethan's life had he met someone with his same last name other than his parents. It left him confused. "Huh… that's a weird coincidence."_

 _Allan shrugged. "Let's go outside. It's recess."_

 _"Okay." The two of them left the classroom and headed towards the playground._

 _"I saw you sneak off to the third graders during lunch," Allan said. "Why were you over there? They're lame."_

 _"I have a friend who's in third grade," Ethan said hotly._

 _"Well I guess they can be the exception. The rest of them are nothing." Ethan understood the hostility between the grades. He often felt himself superior to the younger students, but the way Allan talked about them creeped him out. Whatever. He was trying to be friends with this kid._

 _"Ethan, over here!" Daina was waving to them from under the monkey bars. Ethan motioned Allan over and hurried over to the little girl._

 _Daina tucked her hands behind her back and glanced up at Allan. "Oh…" she said softly. "Hi, are you new here? I'm Daina."_

 _"Daina…" Allan echoed. Ethan noticed a particular look in the boy's eyes as he stared at her. It was a strange look. It stuck out to him even as a ten-year-old boy._

 _"Uh… this is Allan," Ethan interjected._

 _"What do you guys usually do during recess?" Allan asked, looking back at Ethan. The gleam in his eyes was gone._

 _"Well—."_

 _"Well yesterday we started building a campsite down in the ditch!" Daina interrupted cheerfully. "Ethan and I were lost in the rainforest and trying to survive! You can pretend to be another safari guy who got lost too!"_

 _"Okay," Allan agreed. "How much of the campsite did you make?"_

 _"We dug out a campfire and put rocks around it like they do in the movies," Daina said. "And I brought my dad's old jacket we can use as a tent."_

 _"A campfire?" Allan noted. "Can we light it?"_

 _"We're not allowed," Ethan piped up._

 _"Why can't we do it anyway?" Allan argued. "It'd be fun."_

 _"We can't! We'd get in trouble!" Daina pointed out. "And we might accidentally burn something!"_

 _Allan looked at Daina. "Okay," he said. "If that's what you want."_

* * *

"I didn't find out until later about why Allan and I shared surnames," Ethan explained.

"You two didn't meet until you were both ten," Phoenix observed. "If you were half-brothers, and were the same age, I'm assuming you shared a father."

"Very clever," Ethan replied flatly. "To be honest, I'm not even surprised. Dear old Dad's list of sins could've rolled across the floor, hit the wall, and come right back. Why not add adultery to it?" He crossed his arms and stared at a piece of police tape that was dragging along the ground. "Only this one is here to stay. The rest died with him."

"Can I ask you a question?" Apollo said.

"Why not? I've got nothing more to hide. I've told you my darkest secret, one that only two other people on this planet know about. Ask away."

"Why are you so scared of him?"

There was a pause. Ethan closed his eyes. "Allan and I were alike in so many ways, not just appearances," he continued. "I guess that's why we became friends so quickly. But at the same time, we were so different. At the end of the day, we'd have to part ways and go home. I'd go back to my mother, the most courageous and kind woman I've ever known. He'd go back to a druggie of a mother. And our differences started to show the older we got. He started doing things that bothered Daina and me. I remember, once, he hit a squirrel in the head with a rock and showed it to us. Daina cried.

"I wanted to cut him off, but Daina insisted that we stay. She reminded me that Allan's behavior was only a product of the environment he was raised in, and that I had been in a similar situation. She wanted to "heal" him." Ethan's eyes grew stony. His voice became tense. "It didn't work. The closer she got, the worse he became. It was two weeks after my 14th birthday…"

* * *

 _It had rained yesterday. The grass underneath his shoes barely made a sound as he made his way towards the studio. Ethan was so used to the parched ground crunching under him with each step. He had come here often. Daina's practices ended at night, and her parents worked so late that the studio would be closed before they could pick her up. Ethan lived a few blocks away, so he would usually head over so she wouldn't have to wait in the parking lot on her own._

 _He hoped he wasn't late. His phone had died on him before he got a chance to tell Daina that he was on his way. It was still at home, charging._

 _As Ethan approached the parking lot, he heard voices. He slowed down and listened._

 _"—Not coming. It's just going to be us tonight."_

 _"Why not?" he heard Daina ask._

 _"I texted him not to come. I told him you said you had homework and couldn't go to practice tonight."_

 _"Um… okay? But I don't have homework. Why did you do that?"_

 _"I want to be with just you. You're very pretty."_

 _Daina didn't respond. Ethan was about to step forward when Allan continued._

 _"I really like you."_

 _"… Allan—."_

 _"I've really liked you for a long time."_

 _"I… I…"_

 _"Do you not like me back?"_

 _"I… I don't know, Allan. I have to think about this. Listen, I really need to go home."_

 _"Is it Ethan?"_

 _"W-what? No, I just—my parents are—."_

 _"You like Ethan better, don't you? It's always Ethan." There was a clear note of anger in his voice._

 _"Allan, stop." There were footsteps. Daina was backing away. "Stop, please! Don't come any closer!"_

 _"Why don't you like me back, Daina?_ We were meant to be together! _" There was a rapid series of scuffling. Daina let out a scream, which was quickly cut off by a low thud of somebody hitting the ground. Ethan felt his heart quicken as he sprang out towards them._

 _What he saw horrified him. The image was seared into his head. Daina was on the asphalt, thrashing under Allan's weight. He was holding her wrist down with one hand and trying to cover her mouth with the other._

 _So many emotions flew through Ethan in that split second. First came gut-wrenching fear. Then disgust bubbled deep and intense inside of him. It was all replaced by an incontrollable, burning rage. He raced towards the two. The ground felt springy and light. He tackled Allan, and they tumbled onto the ground. What happened after that was a vague blur. He remembered hitting and being hit. He wasn't sure exactly how much time passed. Apparently it was enough time for the police to arrive. When they got to the scene, they found Ethan pinning his brother down, hands around his neck, with every intention to kill him. They pulled him off and were about to arrest him when Daina tearfully explained what had happened. They brought both boys to the station anyway, but Ethan was released right after questioning._

 _Allan was sent to juvenile detention and vanished from their lives. Daina's parents adjusted their work schedule so that they would be able to pick her up the moment her practice ended. Terry loudly declared that if anybody tried to hurt her little sister again, she'd gouge their eyes out. Ethan became a big brother to an unborn little girl and flew back to Bordeaux with his mother._

 _As years passed, Daina's mind suppressed and muddled the memory of the incident, a defense mechanism to keep her sane. Still, some part of her remembered, and as soon as she graduated college, she went to New York to flee from the ghost that seemed to always be around the corner. And things finally went back to normal._

 _Then, one day, a trial happened. And she was lured back to where it all started._

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Was I the only kid that didn't mind eating the crust on sandwiches? Am I truly the psychopath?**_


	21. Chapter 21

Neither Phoenix nor Apollo said anything for a while, but Ethan could tell they were in deep thought. He began to wonder if it had been wise to tell them. "Just look at us," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Cloudy skies, police tape, and the looks on your faces. This couldn't be more of a perfect snapshot of the word 'somber.'"

"Well we're now part of Detective Tache's two-person secret club," Apollo replied. "Though now the membership's been bumped up to four."

"Congratulations," Ethan responded sarcastically.

Phoenix hadn't said a word. There was a dire look on his face. It appeared he had come to realize something.

Ethan seemed to catch on. "There's nothing we can do for the time being," he admitted. "I've known for a while that Allan might have been behind this. He's still running free because he's clever. I've even tried to catch him by thinking like him, but… There's a broken part of his mind even I can't emulate."

"You keep saying how you and him are so different. If that were the case, then you wouldn't have any reason to be afraid of him," Phoenix said. "You and Allan are only half-brothers, but you two are more alike than you would like to admit. Isn't that the real reason you won't go near him? You're too afraid you might be confronted by a mirror image."

Ethan stared at him, and then gave a light-hearted chuckle. The detective had fully retreated back into his shell. The darkness was replaced with a smile. "I can see there can be no hidden secrets around you, Monsieur Wright. Personal borders don't seem to deter you, do they?"

"It's like you said. People have died, Tache. Have you never stopped to think that maybe that woman was found in that alley back there because your cowardice prevented you from stopping the killer?"

Apollo stared at his mentor, shocked. "Mr. Wri—."

"Ten years ago, the law took mercy on him because he was a minor. He's had ten years to be rehabilitated, and you can see how effective that's been." Phoenix gestured towards the crime scene behind them. "It's time something has to be done, Detective. Alert the police, file a report, do whatever police-y thing you people usually do to bring this man in. We _have_ to bring justice down on this monster. Whatever he's aiming for, he's getting closer to it. If you don't do anything, it's going to be too late."

A desperate, almost pleading look crossed Ethan's face. "Do you think I haven't realized that already? You don't know what you're asking me to do. If the police start a manhunt, that will make Allan panic. Not in a good way. Imagine the attack in Daina's apartment, but increased tenfold. I can't risk that."

"Then what are you going to do?" Phoenix insisted. "Hide behind police tape and useless investigations? If you're not going to do anything, then maybe I can. Come on, Apollo." He began to turn away. Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Don't get yourself any more involved into this mess," Ethan cried out. "Don't you have a little one to look after?"

"I do, but it's not just her. I have to protect anyone who can't look after themselves. And seeing how you're not doing anything…"

"I'll do what I can!" Ethan promised. "You have my word!"

Phoenix glanced over his shoulder. "Then we'd better get to work, shouldn't we?" He and Apollo walked off. Ethan could only stare at them in disbelief. Did a lawyer really just school him? A defense attorney, no less!

* * *

 _A few days later…_

"I've been completely convinced that what the Wright Anything Agency needs is a dog!" Trucy said as she twirled her hat in her hands. "I'm thinking something like a bullmastiff! They're big ol'sweethearts! Now I just have to find a way to convince Daddy to get one."

"Good luck with that," Klavier said, sitting in the waiting room chair next to her. "Herr Wright strikes me as the kind who prefers his space animal-free."

"Well he used to be adamant about his 'no pets' rule at the office," Trucy admitted. "But he lets Mordecai in all the time. He's just a closet dog person; you'll see!"

"Speaking of that little thing…" Klavier said, his eyes moving towards the door. "Are they going to let us see him or not? I could've written a song and its instrumentals in the time they've already had us wait."

Trucy's eyes were suddenly filled with concern. "What if something happened?"

"I'm sure everything is fine," Klavier reassured quickly. "They're probably checking him over before they take him out. He's going to be very excited when he sees us, and he might rip his stitches."

Trucy's hands flew up to her mouth. "Oh no!" she gasped. "Maybe we shouldn't have come?"

Maybe, but Trucy had begged to see Mordecai for the past few days. Phoenix and Apollo seemed to have their hands full, so Klavier took it upon himself to take her. Besides, he could still clearly remember how Trucy had bawled her eyes out when she heard about Mordecai's critical condition.

Klavier was still thinking up an answer when he heard jingling and the clinking of claws on tile. The door opened. A nurse held it out while a small figure stepped through. When he saw them, the German Shepherd lifted his head. His tail began to wag.

"Mordy!" Trucy cried. "You're okay!" She jumped onto the ground and held her arms out. The dog's tail quickened as he gingerly made his way over to the girl. Trucy hugged him, but quickly jumped back as Mordecai began licking her face. Klavier saw a wide, shaved area on the dog's neck. A grotesque, red line and crisscrossed stitches covered the skin in the bald patch.

When Mordecai spotted Klavier, he limped over to him and tried to stand on his knee with his front paws. The effort seemed too much for the dog, and he dropped back to the ground. Klavier leaned forward and gently scratched the dog's chin. "You were such a brave boy," he told Mordecai. "I'm glad to see you up and about again." Mordecai's tongue flicked out, trying to lick his hand.

"When can he go home?" Trucy asked the nurse.

"About one to two weeks," the nurse answered. "The vet wants to keep a close eye on the wound until it heals a little more. Plus, he has a little trouble walking so we're giving him some light physical therapy sessions."

"Aww, poor baby!" Trucy massaged the sides of the dog's face, careful to avoid the wound. "I bet you miss your mommy, don't you? At least Daddy's here!"

That caught Klavier by surprise. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well Daina's his mom!" Trucy explained. "So doesn't that make you his dad?"

"I… I suppose," Klavier mumbled, although he considered himself far too young to be a 'daddy' of anything.

Trucy pressed the side of her face against Mordecai's. "And I can be your big sister!" Klavier wasn't sure what to make of the family dynamic anymore.

"The police were here the other day," the nurse added. "They were trying to see if they could find any clues around his stab wound. I've never seen the vet so furious. 'Clues on the wound? Just let me treat the damned thing before the dog bleeds to death!'"

"His owners were attacked, and there have been no identified suspects yet," Klavier pointed out. "The police are getting desperate."

"I hope they catch the attacker soon," Trucy said, still holding Mordecai. "Even Daddy's worried about it."

So even Wright was worried? That wasn't a good sign. Still, life needed to go on. It wasn't like he was going to hide in a bomb shelter until everything blew over. Klavier glanced at the wall clock. It was a little before half past six. He and Daina were supposed to go out at seven.

"I'm afraid we need to start saying our goodbyes to the little pup," Klavier told Trucy quietly. Trucy's face fell, but she understood. Turning back to Mordecai, she hugged him one last time.

"See you later, Mordy," she whispered into his fur. As they stood and headed for the door, Mordecai watched them with confusion in his eyes. He let out a soft whimper and began to follow them.

"No, Mordy, you need to stay," Trucy said as she started closing the door behind her. "You need to get better. I'll come visit again, okay?" As she closed the door, they heard Mordecai paw at it from the other side. "That's so sad!" she sighed.

"We'll see him again," Klavier promised.

"Yeah," Trucy agreed reluctantly. "I guess you have your love life to focus on, huh?"

What the? He didn't remember telling her about his plans. Ah, whatever. "So home we go?"

"Actually, I need to get back to the Wright Anything Agency," Trucy said. "Apollo probably needs help closing the office. I bet he's still busy cleaning the toilets."

Klavier fought down a chuckle. "Does he do that often?"

"Oh, Polly's like the agency's little maid!" Trucy explained. "When he's not working on a case, Daddy has him cleaning or organizing things!"

"Well," Klavier said, amused. "I never knew." As per her instructions, he took Trucy back to her little office building. Then, he turned and headed out, trying to decide whether to head straight to Daina's place or stop at home and do something about the dog hair that clung stubbornly to his clothes.

The sunlight was just starting to wane as the sun dipped towards the horizon. Sundown wasn't until two hours or so. As Klavier zigzagged through the grid-like city streets, he felt his phone buzz with an incoming call. He pulled over on the side of the street, underneath the shade of a looming building.

The call was coming from Daina. Huh. He wasn't late. Did something turn up? Klavier removed his helmet and hung it on the handlebar. He dismounted from the motorcycle and leaned against it. "Ja?" he answered. "I'll be over in ten minutes."

"You need to get to the police department," a voice demanded. " _Now._ "

"Tache?" This was starting to get real old. "What are you doing?"

"A date?" Ethan said, his voice rising. "After everything that's happened? Are you insane?"

"Is this what this is all about? Tache, she needs something to help her relax. Come on, you can't keep babying her."

"That's not what this is about," Ethan said. "Klavier, listen to me: your _life_ could very well be in danger. Stop whatever you're doing and head to the police department right now. I'm watching over Daina here."

"What?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Just don't stop for anything."

"Okay, okay. If you ins—." His words were cut short as a pair of hands grabbed him by the head and yanked him back. The phone clattered on the pavement. He tried to cry out, but a hand was firmly pressed over his mouth and nose. Then, an arm wrapped around his neck and squeezed.

Klavier tried to break away from the headlock, but whoever was behind him would not budge. All his struggling did was quicken the darkness that creeped in around his vision. His rapid heartbeat grew louder and louder in his ears. Eventually, it all stopped.

* * *

He dropped the unconscious body onto the ground. The bastard stayed alert for longer than he had expected. No matter.

"Klavier? _Klavier?_ Are you still there?" He heard the panicked voice coming from the phone. Ah, it was brother dear. "Klavier?" He picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"So that's his name?" he mused. There was silence. He could just imagine the shocked look on Ethan's face. Why, he must've gone so pale. The thought delighted him.

"… Allan—," Ethan said.

"She's not his," he interrupted, casting a hateful glare down at the body. "He's getting in the way. I'm going to get rid of this _pest_."

"You leave him alone, you hear me?" Poor Ethan tried to sound intimidating, but there was clearly fear in his voice. "Don't you DARE, Allan!"

"I'm not a monster, Ethan," he replied sweetly. "And since I'm such a good brother, I'll give you a chance. Gourd Lake. See you there." He hung up and threw the phone aside. Walking past the body, he picked it up and carried it towards the blue car that was parked behind the building.

It was time to take out the trash.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Gourd Lake be all, "I'm TIRED of y'all throwing your bodies into me! Do I look like a cemetery to you?"**_

 _ **Also, get schooled, son.**_


	22. Chapter 22

He lowered the phone, hand shaking. He caught a glimpse of Daina's face and quickly glanced away, hoping she wouldn't see the fear in his eyes.

"Allan?" Daina repeated, staring at him. "Y-you said… so is he really—?"

"Everything is going to be…" His throat clenched. He couldn't say it. Everything was _not_ going to be fine. "Bonnet, you stay right here. Stay in the building, and stay where the officers can see you."

"But Klavier, is he going to be okay?"

"He's alive," Ethan assured. "I'll bring him back."

"Detective, we've got two cars ready to accompany you," an officer said.

"No," Ethan said quickly. "If I bring anyone with me, he'll kill him."

Daina's eyes widened. "Is that what he told you?"

Well, no, now that he thought about it. Allan hadn't said anything like that to him. It was just something Ethan figured. The thought had come so quickly and naturally to him. It was like he was the one who had the hostage.

"Y-yeah," Ethan stammered. "That's what he said over the phone." He quickly drove the thought away. His hands flew to his sides, patting each gun. "I have to go now. Bonnet, stay safe."

"Do the same," Daina replied, her voice trembling.

Ethan managed a chuckle. "You know me."

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set. On the water's edge, the burning colors looked particularly stunning. There was a pier that stretched a couple feet out into the water. It wasn't meant for boats; it just served as a place where people could stand and admire the view. At the very end of the pier was a bench looking out over the water and the sunset. There was a man sitting silently on that bench. Beside him, something sprawled on the wooden planks stirred.

When Klavier came to, the first sensation he felt was the cold wood against the side of his face. Then he felt the dull, ringing pain in his head. As his vision slowly returned, he lifted his head and looked around. There was nothing but the water's flat surface for miles around. Someone was next to him. That had to be the man who attacked him! Klavier squinted his eyes as he tried to make out the man's face. His eyesight was still too blurry, but it was coming into focus.

He saw bronze hair and a familiar face. Was that… Ethan? Klavier tried to sit up, but as he did, he felt his wrists strain against their binds. His ankles were tied too. He tried to say something, but the words were muffled against his gag.

"Oh, you're awake," he heard the man say. It wasn't Ethan's voice. What was going on? "A few minutes more and I would've started worrying about brain damage if I were you. But it's not like that's going to matter for long." Klavier pulled harder against his restraints. "Careful now. Wouldn't want to take a tumble over the edge."

This man was going to kill him if he had the chance. That much Klavier knew. He couldn't let that happened. But as much as he pulled and twisted, the restraints never loosened.

"Who are you, anyway?" the man continued. His voice was suddenly pervaded with disgust. Klavier looked up at the man. Now that he could see, he saw that this man looked a lot like the detective, but still was different. And now he was staring furiously at Klavier. "I mean, how long have you known her? Two weeks? Three? And somehow you've managed to wrap her around your finger. I know you, Gavin." The anger seemed to fade. The man leaned back against the bench. "I know about you. And your brother. Landed himself in jail for murder, didn't he? Two people. At least one of you had balls." He sighed and leaned an arm across the top of the bench like he was bored. "But you, you're the kind to just stand around and look good, isn't that right? Just flip your hair, play a little song on the guitar, and the girls go wild. Not bad. A little manipulation goes a long way, huh? That's how I get a lot of things. Phone numbers, addresses, people, even a little childish drawing from a detective's office."

The man glanced over his shoulder like he was looking for something. Casually, he checked his watch, and then returned to watching the sunset.

"Nothing to say, Gavin? I'm bored; let's keep talking, shall we?" He tapped a foot against the pier. Klavier felt the vibrations rippling through the planks. "You know, I started thinking that maybe I'd never see her again. And maybe that I'd deserve it. But it was agony, and I couldn't stand it. So at first I tried replacing her with others. It was so easy." He glanced at Klavier and flashed him a smile. Klavier couldn't believe how normal and genuinely kind he looked. Then the smile dropped and the cold distance returned to his eyes. He looked back at the water.

"You would know. Manipulation. I had women tripping over one another to get to me. It was nice. I enjoyed their eagerness, their desperation. It was like having a dog that became irrationally happy to see you day after day. And I played the part of the affectionate owner _so_ well." Then, his hands tightened into fists. "But they weren't her. They were nothing like her. It made me furious. They were tainted, _disgusting_. When I couldn't stand them anymore, I got rid of them. And you know, the police are so easy to fool. Just a few false clues or a carefully worded alibi, and they'd go off sniffing in the other direction."

While the man talked, Klavier tried scooting towards the base of the pier. Maybe he could inch away and attract someone's attention. Suddenly, he felt something tug at his ankles. He glanced down.

There was a rope tying his ankles together. Then there was another one that snaked from his feet to the bench. There, with the man's feet propped against it, was a large cinderblock. That was what was holding him back. Klavier's skin crawled as he realized that he could go plunging into the water at any moment. All the man needed to do was give a simple kick.

"Oh, I could kill you," the man said as though he had read Klavier's thought. "In fact, I want to. But for now, I need you alive." His head turned ever so slightly as they heard a car pulling up and coming to a brisk halt. "I need you alive just for this. Get ready, Gavin. It's showtime."

* * *

There he was, sitting at the edge of the pier as though he were enjoying a simple little evening to himself. He looked so calm. Ethan, however, was thoroughly rattled. The gun in his hand, pointed straight at Allan, was shaking heavily.

He saw Klavier on the ground and finally managed to find his voice. "Let him go and we can settle this civilly, Allan. It doesn't have to be like this."

"Isn't this familiar?" Allan mused loudly, crossing one leg over the other. "Once again I find myself in a situation where you are attempting to kill me. Funny."

"I'm giving you one more chance."

"Or what? You'll shoot me? I was wrong. This isn't the same situation. You and I both know you can't pull that trigger. We're not simply animals. You need anger to make the kill. Isn't that right?" With a hand, he swept his hair back. "I know you too well. After all, you have my blood."

Then, before Ethan could react, Allan let out a cold laugh. He shoved something with his foot. Ethan heard a heavy splash. Klavier let out a strained cry and was pulled across the pier. He disappeared over the edge and into the water. Ethan's heart stopped.

Allan stood up and calmly walked around the bench. "It's me or him, Ethan," he said as he strolled past. "I hope you swim fast."

Ethan cast one last desperate glance at Allan, the choices running furiously through his mind. But it was obvious what he would choose. Running towards the edge of the pier, Ethan threw off his jacket and shoes and plunged head first into water.

The cold ran through his body like an electric shock. The water was dark; the sun had already set. Ethan swam straight down, moving as fast as he could. Adrenaline fueled his body as he went deeper and deeper. He couldn't see Klavier, but he could see a thin trail of bubbles rising up from the depths.

He swam furiously, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He told himself that he wasn't going to come back up to the surface without Klavier. This was all his fault. Phoenix was right. If Klavier drowned, it would be all his fault.

Finally, he caught sight of a dark figure swaying in the water. As Ethan drew close, he noticed how Klavier had stopped struggling. Apart from his hair and clothes billowing in the currents, he was perfectly still. Panic began to course through Ethan. He swam down to Klavier, but it was getting harder and harder to move. The burst of adrenaline only went so far, and his chest was starting to grow tight. But he refused to go back up alone.

He managed to reach Klavier's ankles and the rope that tethered him to the cinderblock. There was no way he could bring the block back up to the surface. Ethan reached for his holster and quickly undid a small pouch that held his multi-tool. He pulled up the knife from the tool and grabbed the rope. Ignoring the burning sensation in his chest, he started to cut.

* * *

Ethan made quite the splash. Some of the water had been thrown up onto the edge of the pier. Allan walked over to the edge and peered curiously. He could no longer see his brother. He wondered if he would truly be able to save the pest. Of course, Allan couldn't have cared less.

A gun was sitting on the pier by the bench. Ethan had dropped it before he jumped. That was all he needed. Stooping down, Allan picked it up. He tilted it in his hands, admiring it. Then, with a final, smug glance at the water, he turned and walked off the pier.

* * *

There was a high-pitched, incessant whine in his ears that grew louder and louder. The dimly lit surface seemed to never get any closer. But he couldn't stop swimming. He couldn't.

With Klavier in tow, he fought for the surface. He fought and struggled and kicked with all his might. It was getting harder to move. His limbs felt as though they were filling with lead. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut. ' _I'm not going to die like this,'_ he thought despairingly. ' _I can't let it end like this. Not for us!_ '

In that moment, his head broke through the surface. He let out a strangled gasp and coughed as lake water splashed into his mouth. Ethan spotted the pier's ladder a few feet away and lashed out towards it. He grabbed onto it and held on for dear life, trying to catch his breath. But he couldn't rest for long. Klavier still wasn't moving. Ethan climbed up the ladder and pulled Klavier up onto the pier. He looked around, but the place was deserted. Allan was gone.

Ethan grabbed his jacket and threw it over Klavier. Then, with both hands, Ethan tilted him onto his side. A small stream of water trickled out of his mouth. That wasn't nearly enough. He rested Klavier back down and felt for a pulse. There was one, but it was very weak. He lowered his ear to Klavier's mouth. There was no breathing at all.

" _Bordel de merde!"_ he cursed, feeling the panic flare up again. He took Klavier's head and tilted it up. "Je suis vraiment désole. I know I call you 'chérie' all the time, but don't get the wrong idea!" Pinching Klavier's nose, Ethan covered his mouth with his own and blew. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Klavier's chest rise. He gave two more breaths before rising and starting chest compressions.

"Come on!" he pleaded as he pushed down. "Come on, don't go! Come back for Daina! Don't do this to her!" He went back to mouth-to-mouth. Three more breaths. Then compressions. He began to wonder for how long he should continue, and what to do once it was time to give up. Then, with another compression, Klavier sprang to life. He threw himself onto his side, gripping the slick surface of the pier as he violently heaved out water. Ethan reached forward and steadied him. "Easy! Easy now!"

Klavier tried to say something but was interrupted by another cough, expelling more water. He struggled to catch his breath. Finally, he was able to say, "W-where is h-he?"

Ethan looked up. The park was still. "Gone."

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Oh la la... mon chérie indeed~**_

 _ **Just kidding. Also, as most of you probably know, this is was still a bit "Hollywood CPR." Realistically, there would be a good chance that Ethan could've cracked Klavier's ribs, and/or Klavier would have vomited water AND vomit, but... yeah. Didn't want to write about that in any level of detail.**_

 _ **"He couldn't see Klavier, but he could see a thin trail of bubbles rising up from the debts." I wrote that. And almost missed it during my first run-through edit. Lol. Student loans will KILL YA.**_


	23. Chapter 23

With the knuckles of her hand pressed against her lips, Daina sat rigidly at an empty desk. Her mind was flying through panicked thoughts. Was it really Allan who had been terrorizing her all along? Allan Tache, the same man who, all those years ago… Daina squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to even acknowledge the memory. But he was back now. What if he hurt Klavier? What if he hurt Ethan? What if—?

A noise made Daina jump. She opened her eyes. There was a cup of water in front of her. A woman was seating herself across from Daina. "Didn't mean to startle you," she apologized.

"It's okay," Daina replied quietly, wrapping her hands around the cup. "Thank you."

"Yup. It's Daina, right?"

"Yes."

"Ah. I'm Ema. I'm also a homicide detective, like Ethan. We've worked together on a few cases. He mentioned you quite a few times."

Daina managed to smile. "He's been my good friend for a long time."

"I can see that," Ema said. "That man's one in a million. I swear, if the rest of our division was as half as competent as he is, maybe I wouldn't feel like having to pull my hair out all the time." She gave a little chuckle at her own comment. Daina looked down at the cup, falling silent. "So I hear it's you and the glimmerous fop, huh? Well, I'm glad he's finally off my back. How's he been treating you?"

A caring look crossed Daina's face. At the mention of him, her heart swelled up. "He… He actually cares about me. He's so kind and endearing a-and…" Her heart sank as she remembered. She covered her mouth as her shoulders shook. "And he didn't deserve any of this."

Ema looked shocked and a little guilty. Apparently, she had no idea. "I-I'm sorry," she said. "Did something happen?"

"Allan took him. And he told Ethan he'd kill him!" Daina whimpered.

"Really?"

"Ethan went after them." Daina leaned forward on the desk, covering her face with both hands. "And I keep thinking about how this is all happening because of me. It's me he wants, and he's going to tear through anyone who gets in his way." Daina lowered her hands. "What if I just… just let him have what he wants? Then no one else would have to get hurt…"

"No," Ema said forcefully. Daina looked up, surprised. "You can't do that. You can't let him win."

"But—."

"He's just one man," Ema continued. "And you have us by your side. We'll get through this. You'll see." At that moment, a phone rang. Daina looked hopefully down at her pocket as she pulled out her phone. "I think that might be Eth—." Her face fell when she looked at the screen.

Ema leaned forward. "What is it?"

"It's… it's him."

"Don't answer it," Ema insisted. Daina looked up at her, the phone still ringing in her hand. "Daina, he isn't going to tell you anything you'll want to hear."

"I know that," Daina whispered fearfully. "But if he's calling me, then that means Ethan and Klavier… I need to know what happened." Without waiting for Ema to reply, she turned away and answered the call. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Allan."

"Hey, Daina," came the reply. His voice was pleasant. "You know, I've waited a long time to be able to just be able to talk to you."

"What's going on? Where's Klavier?" she demanded.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"Allan, tell me where—."

"That sorry thing? Heh." He chuckled happily, as though enjoying a nice joke. "Darling, you don't have to worry about him anymore."

It felt as though a large object had struck her in the chest. Daina let out a shaky breath as she fought to control her tears. "No…" she sobbed. "No, Allan, you _didn't!_ "

"It had to be done," Allan said. "You know that. And you know what else? I have Ethan here, and he's about to join Gavin."

"Don't, please!" Daina pleaded. "Allan, just leave him alone! It's me you want, isn't it?"

"You're absolutely right. In fact, I'll give you a chance because I care so much. If you leave the police department now and bring yourself to me, Ethan won't have to die."

Daina closed her eyes. Her other hand was squeezed so hard into a fist that it was shaking. "Okay," she agreed through gritted teeth. "Where are you?"

"We're at your place, patiently waiting. See you there. Oh, and detective?" Daina looked over at Ema. There was an officer with her. They both wore earpieces, and there was a laptop in front of them. "I know you're listening. Just know that if you try and track this call, or send anyone with Daina, I'll blow Ethan's head off. Is that clear?" The call ended.

"Call the chief. Tell him we have a hostage situation," Ema told the officer.

Daina stood. "He'll let Ethan go if I go to him," she said. "You heard that, right?"

Ema stared at her, bewildered. "Are you crazy?" she said. "You have no idea if he'll keep his word!"

"Klavier's already dead, and I couldn't do anything about it," Daina cried, unable to stop the tears rolling down her face. "If there's any chance I can save Ethan, I'll take it. I know Allan; I know he'll do _anything_ to get to me. If he gets what he wants, no one else has to die!"

"Stop and think about this," Ema snapped, rising to her feet. "For all we know, he'll kill you the moment he gets you like he did those other women. And he'll keep doing it."

"Do you think death means anything to me now?" Daina said, laughing bitterly. "He's taking everything I ever cared about and destroyed it. He's made me so scared of existing that I jump at shadows and see things out of the corner of my eye. And you just want me to sit around and do nothing while he keeps burning everything? I don't know how high you're willing to gamble, Detective, but I'm not matching it." She turned and raced out of the police department.

As she ran out onto the street, she saw a familiar red figure flying towards her. Daina froze as Apollo squeezed the brakes of his bike. He dismounted and hurried towards her. "Hey, you're supposed to be—," he began.

"I need this! It's important!" Daina interrupted as she snatched the bike from him. Apollo stared dumbfounded at his empty hands for a few seconds before turning to watch Daina speed away. "This can't be good," he muttered.

* * *

"Let's get you to the police department," Ethan said as he helped Klavier onto his feet. "Here, lean on me."

As they limped towards Ethan's truck, Klavier asked, "Who was that man? What did he want with me?"

"It's a long story," Ethan admitted. "But long story short, he hates you because you're close to Daina."

"I…" They reached the truck. "I think I remember him saying something about that. I couldn't understand it at the time. And besides, I was too freaked out to really listen to what he was saying."

"I never realized how far over the edge he'd become," Ethan mumbled as he started the truck and pulled away from the lake. "But after all these years, I'd lost track of him. Never would I have imagined seeing him again."

"You know this psychopath?" Klavier said.

Oh, that's right. Phoenix and Apollo knew the whole story, not Klavier. Well, there was no point in keeping this one a secret anymore. "Uh… yeah," Ethan admitted sheepishly. "He's my brother. My half-brother, that is."

He heard Klavier let out a breathy sigh. "I'm not going to even ask at this point."

Ethan's phone went off. "Check who that is," he said, maneuvering through the streets. Klavier looked at it.

"Unknown number," he answered.

"That's him," Ethan said.

"That's—!? Shouldn't we ignore it, then?"

"If he's calling, it can't mean anything good. He's got bad news, and I need to hear it. Answer the call."

Reluctantly, Klavier complied. He answered and put the call on speaker.

"I have her right where I want her, after all these years," came his voice. "It's shockingly easy to manipulate her. Just put the people she cares about in harm's way, and she comes running."

"I won't let you get anywhere near her," Ethan snapped back.

"Are you sure about that?" In the background, they both heard a familiar voice. It was Daina's, pleading quietly. "No… don't, please!" Ethan jerked the wheel and pulled over onto the side of the street. He grabbed the phone and brought it up to his face.

"Allan, _stop!_ " he demanded. "For Christ's sake, leave her alone!"

"I know you detest the thought of us being together," Allan replied smoothly. "And the thing is, I'd like to talk to you about that. If you want to protect her so badly, come over and meet with me. Come alone."

"Where?"

"At her apartment. I'm waiting." Allan hung up.

Ethan leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel. His breathing was haggard. Suddenly, he heard the truck door open. He looked up and saw Klavier stepping out of the car.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "You're hurt; you just had a near-death experience."

"Find her, Ethan," Klavier insisted. "Get her away from that maniac. My motorcycle is just a few blocks away; I'll get to it and go to the police department. I'll tell them what's happening."

"But—."

"We haven't got the time to argue!" Klavier shut the door and disappeared. Ethan spent a few seconds trying to straighten his thoughts, and then quickly put his truck back into drive and peeled away. As he drove, he could barely register what was around him. He was only alert enough to not crash into anything. There was so much fear in his body that, as a defense, his brain was numbing itself.

He heard car horns blaring at him. Maybe there were a few lights that had turned red before he passed them. Nevertheless, Ethan kept his foot on the gas pedal. If he let it go, if he was too slow, then…

"This is all a dream, a bad, bad dream," Ethan muttered to himself over and over again as he flew down the streets. "A bad dream. It doesn't matter. Eventually, we all wake up. It's just a bad dream." Before he knew it, he was parked outside of the apartment. He gave a quick glance over each of the windows, paranoid that he'd find a silhouetted figure staring back down at him. "A bad dream," he repeated.

Ethan felt for his remaining firearm. Then he realized that it was useless; it had gotten completely soaked when he jumped into the lake with it. The other one was…. Ethan glanced back up at the windows. With a forceful exhale, he pulled the holster off of his shoulders and threw it onto the passenger's side. He exited the truck and walked towards the building.

Everything seemed so normal. It was as though he was simply visiting her, not walking to his death. A cicada cheerily sang from a nearby tree. As Ethan passed a door, he heard the sound of a television coming from within.

On the stairs, each step let out a low, dull reverberation. There were only a few more steps to go, and then… That door. That one right there.

It was unlocked. Ethan opened it and stepped through. There he was, sitting calmly in an armchair that faced the front door. A gun was in his hand. Their eyes met.

"Ethan, you look tense."

"Where is she?"

"Why so quick to get to the point, brother? It's been a while; why don't we entertain ourselves with a little small talk? Catch up on the times?"

"I'm not playing, Allan."

"Neither am I." The man stood up and walked towards Ethan. He stopped a little short of the detective and tilted his head, as though examining him. "You're so scared to face me. You were never like this before. Has something gotten to you, I wonder?" He laughed, clearly pleased by Ethan's discomfort. "Oh, I see. You're afraid that we're mirror images. That the monster you see in me resides in you as well. Would that be such a bad thing, Ethan?"

"You know nothing about me," Ethan growled back. "Stop trying to play mind games, Allan. This is where you stop. The police—."

"Aren't going to touch me," Allan interrupted. "They know what I can do if they even _think_ about interfering. They're scared, just like you. Well, dear brother, have no fear. I'll put your mind to ease. You see, you couldn't find it in yourself to kill me on the pier. There's still a little humanity left in you, it seems. But me?"

Before Ethan could react, Allan pointed the gun and fired.

* * *

 _ **Addendum: Dropped and picked up again. Lol.**_

 _ **I made and put up a new cover picture because the first one was not as abso-perfect-lutely perfect as I wanted. Jesus, just saying that makes me feel dumb.**_

 _ **Soooo excited to play AA6, but I'll probably have to wait 20 years for it to be translated and then transferred to iOS (because I play the Ace Attorney games on my phone).**_


End file.
